


First love that lasts forever

by shiplock



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Alternate Universe, Blow Jobs, Drinking, High School, Love Confessions, M/M, Masturbation, Teenlock, Truth or Dare
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-09-23
Updated: 2014-11-26
Packaged: 2018-02-16 15:47:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 31,779
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2275521
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shiplock/pseuds/shiplock
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Thank you for reading!</p></blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

When John Watson noticed this boy for the first time, he had no idea what kind of a person he really is. He heard rumours going around the school, stories, half of which probably weren’t even true, but John never actually had an opportunity to subvert them. Because Sherlock Holmes was not a boy one would willingly talked to after they learnt about him, at least that's how it seemed. He usually strolled along the hallways alone, eyes inquiringly flickering over the people as if he was observing them, but he soon learnt to keep his head down. Sherlock became the weird one, someone who people called a freak and not just behind his back. They were laughing at him right in front of his eyes, calling him names and sometimes it went so far he ended shoved against the lockers. It all began the moment people found out starting a friendly conversation is out of the question with him. He used to say really inappropriate things sometimes, never apologising and thus people assumed he is just an arrogant, cold-hearted arsehole. But Sherlock Holmes wasn’t such a boy, he was alone, no friends, no one he could spend his lonely evenings with. That was until he met John Watson. Or rather, John Watson saved him.

John was the right opposite of Sherlock, everyone was trying to get along with him. Girls were dancing around him, boys were admiring him and he kind of a loved such an attention. But neither John had really close friends. He didn’t even have a one he could call his best friend. Sure, there were Greg and Mike, but it was just an ordinary friendship between them. Numerous girls were trying to catch his attention, but after breaking up with his long-term girlfriend, Sarah Sawyer, for quite a time he lost interest even in something that natural as being in a relationship.

It wasn't a coincidence, rather a fate, these two completely different individuals, Sherlock Holmes and John Watson, became friends and probably a miracle they almost immediately fell for each other. Although neither of them were willing to admit it at first.

 

* * *

 

 

Sherlock was hurrying up towards his classroom. If it wasn’t that important for him, he would definitely wait for all the kids to disappear from the corridors, but right now, he was panicing, already being late. He felt people staring at him displeased as he passed by, but ignored them, at least he tried. Fixing his glasses on his nose, he wasn’t paying attention where he’s going and that was his first big mistake.

“Oi, I am so-sorry,“ Sherlock stuttered, his eyes widening upon realising whose back he just hit. Out of the hundreds of kids he could bump into, he was unlucky enough to choose Sebastian Wilkes.

“What do you think you’re doing?“ Although taller than Sebastian, Sherlock immediately shrunk terribly small in front of him.

“I am really sorry, I-I-I didn’t mean to-“

“So the freak didn’t mean to?“ Sebastian laughed, his friends around doing the same.

“Please, let me just get through, I am being late.“ Sherlock’s eyes were already wet, he was soon about to cry, anticipating any sort of punishment.

“Look at this fucking sissy. You think you can just walk around here and crash into the people, freak?“

“Please-“

“Please,“ Sebastian repeated, mocking Sherlock. “This will teach you how to act in my presence-“ Sebastian pushed the boy, intimidating him.

“I am sorry, I swear I will never do it again. You don’t have to be so mean.“ Second of Sherlock’s mistakes. Sebastian scowled, pushing him harder against the locker.

“Mean? You little whiny fucker, who do you think you are? How dare you to open your mouth like that?“ Sherlock got hit even more, Sebastian growling agaisnt his face out loud so everyone who stopped by hears him.

“Look at this freak. Pitiful mess. Does anyone even cares about him? Oh right, who would care about such a faggot freak.“ The moment Sebastian spitted out the last words he shoved Sherlock against the lockers with all his strength, Sherlock whimpering and slding down the wall with the back of his head hurting. The whole space rotated around him, people’s faces fading into a blurry mass of nothing but laughter. Sherlock was close from collapsing, but he was concious enough to notice another boy walking fast down the hallway, pretty pissed up boy who was approaching them. Sherlock was sure that the boy is coming to contribute with another punch or two, break his nose or something even worse, but none of that happened. Sebastian‘s hand that was about to hit Sherlock suddenly jerked backwards, Sherlock hearing desperate shriek as Sebastian smashed against the lockers on the other side of the corridor.

In fact it was the only sound he could hear as no one was laughing anymore. Voices smothered, everyone became as confused as Sherlock who had still no idea what’s going on. He could tell that someone just probably saved him from a cruel experience, but since his head was still being in ache, he could nothing but concentrate on that growing pain.

It wasn’t until few seconds later when he percieved. But as soon as that happened, he forgot how to breath in an instant. The boy who was still nailing Sebastian against the locker was no one else but John Watson. He was yelling, his face red and full of unexplainable rage, but Sherlock wasn’t paying attention to details, he was more concerned with that this is probably not even happening and he hurt his head so hard he’s hallucinating. He still believed in this after John finally let go of Sebastian, who run away with his nose bleeding, kids stringing out and leaving the place. When the space was left empty, John turned around and slowly walked towards Sherlock, offering his hand to help him up from the floor. But Sherlock actually cringed, thinking he’s going to recieve another punch for whatever reason. It all seemed too real again.

“Sherlock?“ John’s voice was soft and calm unlike a while ago. Sherlock finally began accepting the fact that it is probably not just a fantasy.

“You know my name?“

John smiled. He smiled and Sherlock couldn’t help but think that this boy must’ve been his guardian angel.

“Of course. Are you okay?“

“I-I-I am fine,“ Sherlock was about to prove it as he tried to raise up by himself but failed, falling into John’s arms which reached for him.

“Why are you doing this?“ Sherlock tried so hard to avoid John’s glare, but the boy was so close and glancing right at him it was simply not possible. Sherlock couldn’t decide wheter his eyes are the color of azure or silver, but they were definitely the prettiest he ever looked into.

“Doing what?“ John sniggered as if that was the most unnecessary question Sherlock could ask at the moment.

“Helping me. Why did you help me?“

“Oh come on, no one should suffer like this. Not least you.“

“You don’t even know me,“ Sherlock objected, turning his head to hide his flushing face.

“I do. A bit,“ John chuckled, crouching down to gather Sherlock’s book scattered all around the floor.

“You are the tall, dark haired boy everyone refuses to talk to. Still figuring out why though.“

“You heard what they call me.“

“No, actually I didn’t. And I am glad. Sebastian would end up with far worse than just a broken nose if I knew.“

“I don’t understand.“ Sherlock looked still as disconcerted as minutes ago. “You are John Watson.“

“Yes, and?“

“Captain of the rugby team. You are suposed to make fun of me.“

It was John’s turn to pull out a puzzled face.

“Why should I?“

Sherlock open his mouth to retort but he had no idea what to say at first.

“Well, I am weird. I am down below, you are the sort of a popular kid in here, why would you want to hang out with me? Look around now, everyone’s staring, you should go unless you want to recieve a similar mockery.“

“Oh, I am going, don’t worry. With you. Visit the nurse, you need to get your head checked, your brain might be in concussion, that bastard hit you pretty hard.“

“Won’t you get into the trouble? You hit him pretty hard too.“

“Even if I will, it was worth it.“ John’s lips spread into a wide, heartwarming smile again. Sherlock could barely concentrate on anything but that.

“Thank you, John. But I- ehm, I don’t want to bother you. You don’t have to do this.“

“But I want to. Now, shut up and let’s go.“

“Well but -I'll miss my class.“

“Your class is far less important than your health, Sherlock.“

“But-“

“I want to hear no more, come on, we're going to the health office.“

“John, listen, I really appreciate your help, seriously, it was very kind of you, but I feel much better now. It’s all good, I don‘t need to go anywhere except my class.“

John wouldn‘t believe him even if making one simple step didn’t make Sherlock almost trip and fall on the ground again. After being caught by John once more, Sherlock had to stop protesting.

 

* * *

 

 

“Do you feel dizzy? Is it still hurting?“

Sherlock was about to answer no, but in fact, both answers were unfortunately yes. He didn't feel quite comfortable while the school nurse was palpating his head and John was standing close and watching it.

“Oh dear, I think this calls for hospital, it might turn out to be really bad.“

“That's not necessary, I'll be fine.“

“Sherlock, she's right.“

Sherlock wanted to answer back, but John was being surprisingly demanding. They practically knew each other for ten minutes and he already acted like Sherlock's life is the thing most precious to him.

“Ah, fine, if you say so. Oh, wait, where are my-my glasses, they must've fell when I-“

John was already gone, only to came back a minute later with what was left of Sherlock's glasses.

“I am sorry.“

“Like it's being your fault, John. It doesn't matter anyway, I only got them for reading.“ Taking a permit to go home from nurse, Sherlock got up from bed, ready to leave the room. John followed him, supporting his body, but as soon as they were outside on the hallway, he stopped, turning Sherlock around.

“What are you doing?“

“Your shirt, it's whole ripped from behind.“

“And?“

“You can't walk like that.“

“And what am I supposed to do about it?“ Sherlock shifted back to face John, his mouth left hanging open upon seeing the boy pulling his hoodie over his head.

“Here, take this, I think it could work.“

Sherlock grasped for air, but made no other move.

“Sherlock?“

“John I can't-“

“You can't what?“

“Wear your clothes, that's weird.“

“Oh, I know you are pretty taller, but look how oversized things I wear.“

“No, no, no, it's not that. I am just-“ Whatever Sherlock was about to say, he didn't manage to, because John was already setting his hoodie over Sherlock's head. John was right, it fitted almost perfectly. Sherlock usually didn't wear such clothes, but John Watson's sweatshirt he would happily wear till the rest of his life and not just because it was so soft and comfortable.

John for whatever reason didn't step back, but stayed close next to Sherlock, making it impossible for him to hide his flushing cheeks.

“Thanks.“ The word was barely audible, Sherlock was completely burning with coyness, he even forgot about the whole incident that happened just minutes ago.

“That's ok. What are friends for after all?“

Sherlock was sure he must've misheard. He glared at John, rapidly blinking, it was almost as if he just stopped percieving.

“What's wrong?“

“F-f-f-friends?“

“Sorry?“

“We are not friends, John. We just spoke to each other for the first time.“

“Oh that, yeah. I am an extremely friendly person, though. I now claim you my friend, Sherlock,“ John giggled, waiting for any kind of response.

“I don't have friends.“

It was heartbreaking to hear such a thing, John had no idea why is it like that in the first place. Everything he ever heard about this boy wasn't quite true.

“Well, now you got one. Come on, I'll take you home.“

 

When they arrived at Sherlock's place, Sherlock didn't even had to open the door, his mother was already standing on the porch. Her expression was more than clear, she already sensed what's going on.

“Heavens, they did it again, didn't they?“ She immediately cupped Sherlock's face and caressed his head, Sherlock turning red as lobster.

“Mum, can you please- can't you see that-“

But John wasn't laughing at him as Sherlock expected. He was just standing there in silence, arms crossed on his chest and yes, he was smiling but it was a different kind of smile. As soon as Sherlock's mother noticed him she let go of Sherlock, checking the boy from head to toes.

“Oh god, Sherlock, is that your boyfr-?“

“Mother!“ Sherlock wished he'd just fell under the ground, out of the sight of everyone, and never ever left that dark place.

“He's not-! He just helped me, that's all.“

“John Watson, Mrs Holmes, nice to meet you.“

“What exactly did you help my poor boy with? What have they done this time?“ Tone of Mrs Holmes' voice changed in a second from sweet to bitter, her subtle smile turning into a frown when John and Sherlock told her what happened.

“Oh no, no, no, this time they've crossed the barrier. If you think I am going to leave this without any consequences, Sherlock, you-“

“You don't have to, mum,“ Sherlock cut her mid-sentence, glancing at John. “John had already taken care of that.“ He smiled for himself upon rememebering how John stood up for him. “Thank you, once again.“

“Yes, thank you, dear boy. I don't want to imagine what would happen if you weren't at the right place,“ Mrs Holmes sniffed, pulling Sherlock into rather a tight hug, leaving him hopelessly gasp.

“I was just doing the right thing,“ John replied. “But now, we should really get you to the hospital.“

“No, John. You've done enough for me today. You even left the school without permission.“

“Screw the permission, are you sure you don't want me to come with you?“

“I'll be fine, don't worry. I truly feel better now.“

“But you'll let me know how are you when you'll return home, deal?“

Sherlock sighed out, still in a bit of shock because of all what happened, but he offered John a small nod as an agreement.

“Good, see you in school tomorrow. I hope.“ John turned around to walk away but couldn't resist giving Sherlock one private smile before he disappeared behind the fence.

“What a nice boy, Sherlock,“ Mrs Holmes giggled and Sherlock knew what will come next. “I have seriously no idea why would you hesitate asking him out.“

Sherlock didn't even bother replying to that, his mind was still being occupied with a fact that he just earned a friend in his life. A friend he was sure he doesn't even deserve.

 


	2. Chapter 2

“Sherlock?“ John couldn‘t cover his surprise. When the doorbell rang, this boy was the last he’d expect to see.

“John, hi, ehm, hello-“ It didn’t matter for how long Sherlock’s been preparing his speech, he lost his thread the moment John opened the door.

“How did you know where I live?“

Sherlock opened his mouth, but he was sure anything he’d say, even the truth, would sound creepy.

“Oh my god, this is so stupid, I look like a stalker now. I am so sorry, I didn’t meant to-“

“It’s ok,“ John smirked as he leaned against the door frame, arms crossed on his chest.

“Are you kidding?“

“Of course not. In fact, I am glad you came. I can see you’re ok at least.“

“I- well, yeah, that’s exactly why I am here. You wanted to know how I’ve been doing and since we were having our way around your house I told myself- why not and well, now I am here just to let you know that my brain works perfectly,“ Sherlock tittered, crumpling on his shirt as he avoided John’s eyes.

Silence descended. Rather an awkward silence. Sherlock was pinning his gaze down at his feet and John was patiently waiting, knowing the tall boy wants to say something else.

“John, look, I know this is crazy- we met hours ago and we know nothing about each other, but- ehm, I wanted to ask you, if you’d want to come over sometimes, maybe? If it’s not bothering you in any way, of course-“

“That’d be great, Sherlock,“ John grinned at Sherlock’s little sigh of relief. “Actually, I was about to invite you in, but I see your mother staring at us, so that’s probably not the best idea if you want to keep her thinking I am not your boyfriend.“

Sherlock almost choked on air. “But you-you are not my boyfriend, John.“

“Yeah, come on, I am just joking, Sherlock,“ John laughed, but Sherlock found it anything but amusing so he stopped immediately.

“Sorry, oh god, sometimes I use to say shit, you know. So, if I’ll accidentally hurt you in the future or I’ll say something that offends you, don’t hesitate and tell me, ok?“

“You didn’t hurt me, John,“ Sherlock replied, pulling out a wry smile. “It was a bit unexpected, but I don’t mind. So, ehm... tomorrow in school?“

“Sure. But I warn you... from now on you won’t get rid of me for a second.“

Sherlock delivered John one more subtle smile, he was flushing all over again so he didn’t even manage to say goodbye. He was about to leave, only to turn back a second later, returning towards John a little reluctantly and with even more red in his face.

“Oh heck, this is pretty embarrassing John, but I am- I am still wearing your-your clothes,“ Sherlock stuttered, talking fast and not quite directly to John because he was unable to struggle with this situation without feeling uneasy. He was ready to put off the sweatshirt, but John gripped his wrist, preventing him from doing so.

“No, no, keep it.“

“That’s unacceptable, John.“

“Take it as a gift. It will remind you this day.“

“This day? The day I had to visit a bloody hospital because all the kids in school hate me?“

“No, oh god,“ John gasped, he certainly didn’t think about it like that. He looked Sherlock in the eyes, in those beautiful eyes he kept thinking about since the moment he saw them for the first time. There was so much sorrows and suffering, laying behind that light segment of blue, even though Sherlock tried really hard to hide it all.

“I meant the day we met, so just- just keep it, Sherlock,“ John insisted. “Do it for me, please. There’s nothing you can do or say that will make me change my mind. Because I want you to have it, will you keep it for me?“

Sherlock bit on his lip, corners of his mouth tugging up despite him being completely overthrown with embarassement. He was met with so much kindness from who was still being a complete stranger for him. And yet, even though John Watson was someone whom he knew for barely a few hours, yet he felt he can trust him.

“Thank you, John,“ Sherlock finally gave in after a moment of wavering. “I will take care of it, don’t worry. You should know that never ever anyone’ve done anything like this for me and that in fact, you are my first. First-first friend of course. Ehm... I think I should go now, my mum’s waiting, so, I guess - tomorrow.“

Sherlock quickly whiped around, almost tripping while he walked fast towards the car where his mother was waiting for him.

 

“I thought you were saying you’re going to give him that sweatshirt back?“ Mrs Holmes giggled, putting her hands on the wheel.

“Start the car mum and leave.“ Sherlock’s voice was trembling and his hands shaking as he desperately tried to buckle up his seat belt.

“Oh boy, you‘ve gone a bit red.“

“Mum!“

“Look, your John is still standing there and watching.“

“Christ, mother, my John? And he’s- he’s what?“ Sherlock hesitate a bit before turning left and look through the window to see his mother is telling the truth. John was rocking on his feet forward and backward, sort of a tomboyish smirk crossing his face as he caught Sherlock’s glance behind the glass. Sherlock instantly jerked his head back, slumping down to his seat.

“Mum, you start the car now or I’ll walk home by myself.“

“Oh, Sherlock-“

“MUM!“

 

* * *

 

 

Sherlock refused to talk to his family for the rest of the day. He barely greeted his dog, Redbeard when he came home, not least his brother Mycroft who had as usually prepared a few derisive, malicious comments. Sherlock managed to ignore him, he went upstairs and locked himself in his room. John’s hoodie he kept on for the whole evening, he put it off just while getting a shower, only to put it back right after. It smelled like John and even though Sherlock could hardly tell what exactly that scent reminded him off, he loved it. Suddenly he was more than happy John wanted him to keep it.

Although having school the next day, most of the night Sherlock spent doing anything but sleeping. He found out, and it was no less than a shock for him, that John Watson was running a personal blog. Sherlock would never guess that such a boy would waste his time on the internet, chatting about his everyday life. He was scrolling down and then back up, reading every sentence of every entry ever written at least twice while snuggling on John’s hoodie. He must’ve spent hours on his blog, not paying attention how fast time flies, so when he was about to finally turn off the computer it was already three after midnight. Well, he would have certainly turned it off if he didn’t notice a new entry from today. His heart skipped more than just a one beat when he clicked on the title and opened it.

John possesed no spectacular writing skills, but he was surely writing with all his heart. The way he described how he met Sherlock and how he was practically astonished by him from the very first moment, Sherlock felt lame, but it made him cry. He was quietly sobbing in front of his computer, reading those few simple paragraphs at least dozen of times before he could take no more and had to switch off the computer for his own good.

Sherlock crawled on his bed, nestling up on his side hoping he’ll fell asleep as soon as possible. He could think of nothing more than John Watson and how this boy changed his life just because he is.

 

The next day started off as usual except for when Sherlock woke up, for the first time ever,he was excited he has to go to school. He quickly changed his clothes, took his backpack and ran down the stairs, his whole family already in the kitchen, enjoying breakfast. When spotting Sherlock, everyone, even Redbeard, pinned their gazes upon the boy whose initial smile turned upisde down into a frown upon seeing their cold faces.

“Sherlock, you locked yourself up tonight, are you all right?“

“You can tell us, boy.“

“Yes, Sherlock, why don’t you tell us?“ Mycroft smirked, never leaving Sherlock’s eyes.

“I am fine, thanks for being so concered, brother. Why are you all acting so weird for God's sakes?“

“We’ve been worried, son. When your mother told us what happened... I saw her angry, trust me, but afer what happened yesterday? She was raging.“

“I had a reason,“ Mrs Holmes sulked. “I can’t believe we’ve let it come this far. I’ve been so stupid letting it all slide. I should have done something the first time it happened.“

“Oh, mum,“ Sherlock sighed out.

“What? This is absurd, dear. You never told us the names of those who did it to you, but trust me, I’ll find out by myself. And they all will regret the day they were born when I am finished with them.“

“But-“

“Your mother’s right, Sherlock.“

“Dad!“

“She is. What kind of a school it is where the kids are acting as horrible as this?“

“Maybe I deserved it,“ Sherlock muttered.

“That’s nonsense. You know, we’ve been talkng about this and we think you should transfer somewhere else.“

“No!“ Sherlock had no idea why, but he just yelled at his own father. Even Mycroft was caught off guard.

“Oh god, I am so sorry, I have to go, I am sorry.“ He left before anyone was able to react.

 

Sherlock was thankful for that his school wasn’t that far from the place he lived, because he certainly wasn’t in mood to wait for the bus. Walking by himself helped him think and so it all made sense suddenly. Could it be that he refused to accept changing school because of John? The boy he knew for not even twenty four hours? He knew this was the right reason. He knew that he’ll have to cope with hummiliation and slandering, yet he’d willingly bear this cross just so he could spend the time with John Watson.

 

* * *

 

 

There were no signs of Sebastian Wilkes anywhere, Sherlock made sure as he double checked before he entered the hallway. There were few kids of course, but those were ignoring him, no one even looked at him as he walked by. Everything seemed alright up until someone grabbed Sherlock by his arm and dragged him towards the dark corner.

“What are you doing?“ Sherlock’s nose crinkled, he was ready to recieve a beat but no. This boy he was sure would never do such a thing.

“I am sorry Sherlock, I was so happy I saw you I couldn’t hold myself.“

“So you casually pushed me against the wall? Oh no, that sounded weird.“

John sniggered, licking his lips right after. “I hope no one’s been causing you troubles so far.“

“No. Actually, it’s surprisingly quiet in here.“

“Guess why. They expelled Wilkes.“

Sherlock’s eyes widened, he must’ve heard wrong.

“Ex-expelled? Because of-“

“Yes, because of what he did. When I came back yesterday, headmaster was having a little talk with me too, but I nicely explained to him I’ve been only defending you. Then I said Wilkes has been torturing you for quite a time already and he did what he was supposed to. No one torelates bullies around, I can’t believe he could stay for so long. If you told them sooner they would definitely intercede.

“Is he gone forever, or he’ll come back one day, seeking for revenge?“ Sherlock trembled, not sure if these are the good or bad news.

“Sherlock, don’t worry, I am here for you. I know all kids here are being mean to you, but that will change, I promise. No one will hurt you ever again.“

Sherlock swallowed hard, glaring right into John’s eyes, unable to move or say anthing.

“I thought if I told anyone it would be even worse, John,“ he sniffed. “My parents noticed of course, but I’ve never told them who is responsible for all that. My mother was about to take action, but I didn’t let her, because I was afraid. And now, thanks to you- well, if it wasn’t for you I don’t know where I’d be right now.“

“Jesus, Sherlock, if you told the teachers, anyone, they would help you. You though they would ignore you? That they would watch you recieving shit without doing anything about it? I am telling you, if they knew what was going on, it could be all over by now.“

“Kids knew about it and no one told them either. Because they all hate me, John. They don’t care.“

“But I do, Sherlock. And fuck anyone who thinks no good of you. Look, if I knew how bad it really is, I would be first trying to help you. God, I don’t even want to think about what would happen if I wasn‘t passing by yesterday. Damn coincidence.“

“Coincidences do not exist, John,“ Sherlock objected. “Univese is rarely so lazy.“

“Oh, well, I’ll keep that in mind,“ John chuckled. “Now come on, I want you to meet someone.“ John, gently grabbed Sherlock by his wrist and carried him across the hallway towards the door that led outside on the yard.

“Where are we going?“

“You'll see.“

John stopped them under a large oak, in front of a group of kids. Two of them sitting on a bench, a boy and a girl who were obviously a couple were too occupied with keeping their lips locked to notice John and Sherlock but everyone else lifted their heads up with rather a confused expressions on their faces.

“That’s him. The freak.“

When Sherlock realised what is going on he immediately grasped for air, ready to panic. He tugged on John’s sleeve, hoping he’ll understand, but he was being oblivious to Sherlock’s discomfort.

“He has a name you know-Sherlock Holmes. And he’s not a freak, Sally,“ John hissed.

“Why did you bring him here?“

“This wasn’t the best idea,“ Sherlock whispered right into John’s ear, but upon realising how close he’s standing now, he rather backed up. But John was still ignoring him.

“Because he’s not what everyone thinks he is. I brought him here to prove it. And hey- Greg, Molly, could you stop at least for a second?“ John raised his voice and it was only now, when the couple jerked off each other, blushing and tittering. Molly turned even more pink when she noticed the tall boy crouching behind John’s back and right after that happened, Greg put his arm around his girlfriend, visibly burning with jealousy.

“So this is the bloke? I’ve never actually seen him, only heard stuff about him.“

“Stuff, yeah, not everything you hear is true, Greg. Sherlock is nothing like you’ve imagined. He’s-“ John glanced behind self, trying to describe Sherlock as close to reality as possible, but he got lost in his eyes and could think of no words.

“He’s truly-truly, ehm – charming.“ John cleared his throat, that wasn’t probably the best expression to use.

“Charming? So now you’re gay?“

“I am not- not-“ John turned back to others, particulary to the blonde girl laying on the grass.

“This has nothing to do with being gay, Mary. And I am not saying- look, this isn’t about me, ok? I just came here to ask you to not believe anything anyone says about this boy here, understood?“

“So we should not believe that he’s been a rude arsehole to whoever ever tried to talk to him?“ The boy who’s been so far silent had spoke.

“No, he’s certainly not-“

“I’ve heard he once told a girl her mother is an alcoholic slut who slept with half of the London.“

“What? That’s utter bullshit, Anderson. Why would he say such a thing?“

“I don’t know, ask him, he’s your friend now.“

“Guh, why you all have to be so-“

“Ew, John, please tell us you’re not really a friend with this freak.“

“Sally, shut the fuck up with the freak already.“ John’s jaw and fists clenched, Sherlock was sure that if Sally wasn’t a girl he would punch her.

“Don’t worry,“ she snorted, getting up from the ground. “I have no intentions hanging out with weirdos. Come on, Philip, we’re leaving.“

John was paying no more attention to her, but Sherlock noticed that one inaudible ‘freak‘ she mouthed towards him as she passed by.

“Great. If anyone else feels like leaving, do it now.“ John glided his eyes over the few kids there were left. There were four, Greg, Molly, Mary and a boy who remained quiet for the whole time.

“No one? Splendid. I warn you, if you got any problem with that me and Sherlock are now friends, tell me now. Even though I’ve absolutely no idea why should you, it’s my bussiness after all.“

“I like him,“ Mary smiled, but Sherlock sensed it wasn’t quite honest for some reason. But then again, it could have all been just his paranoia.

“He looks so sad,“ Molly gasped, ignoring Greg rolling his eyes.

“You don’t mind I am sitting right next to you?“ he scowled.

“Oh, stop this.“

“Yeah, you both should stop bickering,“ John interrupted them, his voice a bit rough. “As it seems none of you has anything relevant to say, we should leave.“

“You fit together.“

“Sorry?“ John’s brows knitted when he turned to face the boy who was leaning against the tree trunk.

“You go together as well as milk and cereals. They are good enough on their own but together they blend perfectly.“

“Yeah, good to know, Mike,“ John nodded, trying to not look so terribly bewildered, but failing.

“We should go, Sherlock,“ he requested and Sherlock followed him, a bit relieved he didn’t have to say anything because he was sure he’d ruin it even more.

 

“God, I am sorry, I reckon it was a bit soon for introducing you to my former friends,“ John sighed once they were back inside the building.

“Former?“

“You think I am going o stick around such fu- argh, they couldn’t even give you a chance. Sally and Anderson, Sherlock. I think the others, they’ll be fine with it... eventually. I hope, cause if not, it’s their problem.“

“John, you can’t – you can‘t be serious, why would you want to sacrifice all of your friendships because of me?“ Sherlock could barely catch up with John who was apparently on fire. He grabbed John’s shirt fom behind, pulling him back to face him, but he did it a bit too viciously so they finished chest to chest with they faces so close it became intimate. Fortunately, the corridor was almost empty as everyone was already in their class.

“I am sorry, I didn’t mean to.“

“It’s okay,“ John smirked, his face softening. “Look, there’s no time for such a talk in here. What if I’d stop by your house afternoon, hm? Then you can hold me like this for as long as you want.“

“John-“

“Sorry, talking shit again,“ John apologised, freeing himself from Sherlock’s hands.

 

It was unbelieveable how many classes they’ve got together without any of them realising it at first. Maybe it was because Sherlock was hard to spot in the room, when he always took a seat in the farest desk, keeping his mouth shut for the whole time and John was always sitting in the front row, surrounded by kids who were dying for him to notice them. Up until now at least. Sherlock and John spent the whole day sitting together, giggling and making comments at everything there was to, paying zero attention to what was the class actually about. They were laughing when they left the building, all the way home and couldn’t stop even when Sherlock’s house was already to be seen from the bus window.

“Hang on, Sherlock, stop, I can’t anymore,“ John panted for air, trying to pull together. “Besides, if we' arrive at your house like this your mother might think we’re high and I certainly don’t want her to change her mind about me being a nice and good boy.“

 

As soon as they entered the anteroom, Sherlock tossed his bag to the corner and led John up the stairs.

“If there is anyone in here I am home and I have a friend over!“ The space offered no answer, so Sherlock assumed the house must be empty and for some reason it made his stomach flip. He was alone with John. Alone. Or so he thought till the door of his brother’s room didn’t open right in front of his face.

“So this is him,“ Mycroft concluded and without a further word he walked forward, circled around the boys and then pinned his cold glaze upon John.

“I suppose I should thank you for saving my little brother’s arse.“

“There’s no need to- Mycroft, right?“

“Right, right, anyway, John, what’s the point of you dancing around my brother like a puppy?“

“You mean, being friends with him?“

“If that’s how you want to call it after such a short time, then yes.“

“I think he’s quite interesting,“ John replied, shoving hands into his pockets.

“You know nothing about him.“

“I hope to get to know him better though.“

“Why would you?“

“I-“

“Mycroft why don’t you go and feed your goldfish?“ Sherlock cut them, quickly dragging John towards his bedroom. His brother opened his mouth to retort, but they were both already gone behind the door.

 

“Goldfish?“ John sniggered when Sherlock slammed the door.

“Anthea.“

“Anthea?“

“That’s her name.“

“Your brother has a goldfish named Anthea.“

“See? And people call me the black seep of our family,“ Sherlock chuckled, John doing the same. He looked around the room, amazed how big, yet cozy it looked. There were no posters or pictures hung on the wall, except for the large periodic table hanging above the bed. Sherlock’s bed was exeptionally small, but in the same time John was sure it must’ve been pretty comfortable.

“That’s a bee,“ John lit up as he pointed at a cushion, Sherlock immediately flushing and throwing a duvet over it.

“That’s embarassing.“

“No, it’s damn cute, Sherlock“ John tittered in such a lovely way it made Sherlock’s heart melt, but he still couldn’t understand why John would say such a thing. He gave him rather a disconcerted look, John correcting himself right after, pretending he was about to say something else.

“Cool, I meant cool,“ he cleared his throat.

“Really? Did you know that a single bee can collect only about a twelfth teaspoon of honey in her lifetime?“ Sherlock asked keenly, his face glowing up. John would willingly listen Sherlock talking about bees for the rest of his life if it meant he’d be so joyful as now.

“No, but I like being educated. Hey – my-my hoodie, why is it being-“

“I slept in it,“ Sherlock confessed. It was there,  carefully folded on the bed, it was no use to lie.

“You-you slept in it?“

“God, I am such an idiot. Sorry.“

“Sherlock, for god’s sakes, stop keep apologising,“ John sighed out, closing the distance between them. He put the bag off his shoulders, letting it fell on the ground.

“John- you know, I thought you’re going to answer my questions since you bothered to came.“ Sherlock tried hard to not sound nervous but John was being so close it made his heart race.

“Yeah, yeah,“ John lazily waved his hand. “You wanted to know why would I sacrifice my friendships because of you but the thing is that I don’t care about anyone unless they are not okay with you.“

“John, this absolutely crazy. We are-“

“Enough with this Sherlock. Something clicked between us in the very first second, you can’t deny it.“

“I-“

“We, you and I, are friends, you get that? It doesn’t matter if we know each other for one or thousands of days, it works.“

“I know it does,“ Sherlock mumbled, falling down on his bed.

“Then what’s wrong?“

“Wrong? That’s the problem, nothing is wrong,“ Sherlock sniffed, trying to hold back his tears.

“That doesn’t make sense,“ John frowned, taking a seat next to Sherlock.

“Just forget about it... ehm, I've read your blog, John.“

“Oh, you did?“ John raised eyebrows, blushing a little. “No one reads it, it’s just a-“

“I did and what you wrote yesterday- it touched me, really. And when I say something like that I mean it. You know, people think I am just a heartless crank, but, oh god, I’ve tried so hard and so many times to prove them wrong, but everytime I open my mouth I just ruin everything. I can’t change that however much I’d want to, John.“

John could swear he saw tears in Sherlock’s eyes and it was so painful to watch he almost started cry on his own. At first he hesitated, but then he put his hand over Sherlock’s back, softly caressing.

“Sherlock, you are not what others think of you.“

“You don’t know, you never experienced me like that.“

“Like what?“

“I just- sometimes I lose control over my actions and say stuff they can’t take, even though it’s all just the truth. I am just observing and then describing, but...yeah, I guess it’s always been my fault they were being mean to me, avoiding me and punching me in the face and-“

“Shut up, I won’t listen to this, Sherlock.“

“But you have to know the real me, John. When I am with you I am someone different, someone I’ve never been before. It’s all new and strange and frankly, I’ve no idea what it all means.“ Sherlock spoke nothing but true. Mere friendship was still something he’d never expected to have. He still couldn’t believe that John Watson, captain John, invaded his life and claimed him his friend.

“I am positive this is the real you, Sherlock. I can see it in your eyes. Hey, you do realise I‘ve tried to talk to you even before yesterday happened? But all you did was pack your things, running away as fast you could when you saw me.“

Sherlock was trying to remember, but those parts of his memories were blurry.

“Oh, well, it was probably because I thought you were about to punch me as every other boy of your sort.“

Blood in John’s veins started to boil everytime Sherlock mentioned how they used to beat him, but he managed to stay calm for now.

“Sherlock, I would never- come on. The very first time I saw you, you were standing next to your locker and you saw me to, I know you did. But I didn’t even manage to approach you and you were gone. Then I asked the kids about you and they said you were odd and I should avoid you, but you know what? I didn't believe them a single word and I am glad because they were wrong.“

“Why would you want to talk to me in the first place?“ It was almost as if Sherlock stopped listening halfway through or wasn't listening at all.

“What? Because- I-I don’t know, I can’t explain it. I felt like a moth being lured by a flame.“

“Fire desolates, John.“

“But it’s also a source of light.“

“I am not source of anything except a poison. I am just like a plague, people look at me and they feel sick, they see blackness, but they can’t run away from me, because am still here. You know, sometimes it would be better if I’d just disappeared.“

John’s eyes got filled with terror, he was genuinely horrified because of what he just heard.

“Don’t you tell me you-“

“Yes, and I didn’t tell anyone. God, I’ve even wrote a letter but then something happened. You.“

If John’s heart stopped beating right now, he wouldn’t be surprised. “Me?“

“It actually started a few days ago. I had no idea how, but I wanted to do it. I was prepared, you know. But then... John, I was wrecked and lost, drowning in the sea of misery before I met you. I acted like I am fine, but my heart was just an empty shell, no emotions, nothing. I don’t even know why am I telling you right now, I just want you to know you saved my life. Twice in one day, that’s what I call an achievement,“ Sherlock chuckled, but it was so sad it hurt.

“But, to be honest, it wasn't until you said my name. Because that moment you stormed towards the hallway John, I thought you were going to help him, not me. You have no idea what was going through my mind and- god, you don’t even know what Sebastian called me before he pushed me against the locker.“ Sherlock gasped, his face was clearly a face of someone who suffered a lot of indignity.

“Sherlock don‘t-“

“Faggot freak.“

Two words, cold and sickening. And then rage. That’s what John felt. His eyes were wetting again, but he didn’t want to cry, he wanted to get up and find Sebastian Wilkes, strangle him with his bare hands and then spit on his body with all the hate he felt towards him. His jaw clenched as he smashed his fist against the mattress, Sherlock couldn’t believe he can get as angry as that.

“What?! I told you to not- that’s so fucking horrible, why-why does he even think you are-“

“Because I am.“

Sherlock’s voice cracked as he bursted into tears, folding his hands over his desperate face. John had no idea what to say. So he did the thing that seems the most natural, he pulled Sherlock closer into a tight embrace, still stroking over his back.

“Even if you are, how could he know, why would you tell him?“

“I didn’t, he just... he knew. Apparently everyone knows,“ Sherlock sniffed. Knowing he can, he wrapped his hands around John’s back, burying his face against his shoulder.

“I hate myself, John. I hate that monster inside of me.“

“Shhh, Sherlock, don’t say another word. Please, just shut up and listen to me. You are better than anyone, you are wise and clever and you are so much more than you think of yourself. You are worth much more than each of those kids out there. When I saw you there yesterday, scooching down next to your locker, so broken and hurt, all those pricks around were just laughing and pointing at you and that fucking jerk was standing above, ready to do humiliate you even more, I felt disgusted and I just knew you don't deserve such a shit, I didn't even care for that everyone might ground me afterwards I simply went and punched that son of a bitch. God, right now I’d beat the shit out of that motherfucker who insulted you.“

Sherlock pulled back a little, looking straight into John’s eyes. “You really think I am worth it?“

“Of course,“ John smiled, patting Sherlock’s back. But even through all that John said, Sherlock still couldn’t believe. He couldn’t believe that someone like John could value his life even a little, that someone like him would approach him and offer him a helping hand and become his friend afterwards. When he saw John standing up for him, when he saw John defending him even though he didn’t even talk to him before, even though all the kids in school were against him, it was the moment he told himself that this must be a sign. He forgot about the letter, about what he was about to commit, because John Watson was there and Sherlock Holmes‘ life for whatever odd reason suddenly made sense again.

“Thank you, John, for everything.“

John would wipe the tears out of Sherlock’s face, he would move those curls out of his forehead, he would do anything, even a thing so bold it made him cringe, just to make Sherlock feel better. “You don’t have to thank me, Sherlock. I did the right thing. Because what I did was the best decision of my life. I got to know you, I got to know that extraordinary human being you are and if people fail to see it- screw them. You’ve got me from now on and remember that I-“

“You what?“

“I-I- care about you, Sherlock. I feel like you filled the hole in my heart that has been there for so long. It’s crazy, I admit, given the time we know each other, but it’s how I feel. I wasn’t particulary the happiest person under the sun before I befriended you. Something was missing. A little puzzle piece. No, actually a pretty large one and really an important puzzle piece. You. Now I know, it was you who was missing.“

“This is absurd,“ Sherlock snorted, but they both giggled right after as the tension vaguely faded away.

“You really do care for me,“ he muttered, feeling touched and considering the whole situation, also a bit awkward. He was still being sinked in John's arms.

“As I said. Probably more than I ever cared for anyone.“

“You can’t say such a thing.“

“Sherlock, I don’t have anyone,“ John laughed a bit desperately. “All those friends– I don’t particulary enjoy hanging out with them. We never talk much, but you? I’ve never laughed so hard as I did today, Sherlock. I never felt like this, it’s better than- than, well better than anything. Trust me, when I say this. I know you are different, but being different does not mean you are not important. It means you are special and unique, you get that? And I am telling you, you are bloody amazing, Sherlock Holmes. And now, we’re friends and I hope you’ll finally accept that.“

John was obviously going to say something more, but Sherlock was first, having to pull out an argument as always. “But what about people, John? I can’t... I can’t let you become the same loser I am. Some guys have already turned their backs on you when you-you-“

“Like a give a fuck about those narrow-minded buttholes, Sherlock,“ John rolled his eyes.

“But-“

“Sherlock, just shut up.“

“John, I-“

“Seriously, shut up-or I’ll kiss you.“ Sherlock's eyes widened, but sooner he was able to retort, John laughed and made it clear he was just kidding again.

“I told you I am being a shit sometimes.“

“And I just told you I am gay, John,“ Sherlock replied, quite relieved. “You are the first I ever told, besides my parents, of course. If you’ll keep making these kind of jokes I-“

“Sorry,“ John calmed down, but Sherlock somehow knew he will never stop.

“I assume you don’t have a boyfriend?“

“Very funny indeed. What if I asked you if you don’t have a girlfriend?“

“I’d answer no, because that’s how it is.“

“But you had. You’ve broke up with her. Sometime ago.“

“Yeah. Rumours?“

“Not at all. I can see you feel alone, don't you? None of your relationships ever worked, but this one was different. You thought it will lasts for longer than just two months.“

Wheter John was being uncomfortable or startled, only thing Sherlock could read from his face was confusion.

“How-how do you know?“

“Oh, John, there's far more I know about you. I know you aspire to be a doctor for example. You are so kind and caring, your favourite subject is biology and honestly, John, who would listen to a nurse who tediously jabbers about all the possible head injuries and looking so genuinely interested? I myself had no idea what she's talking about sometimes, but you seemed to uderstand pretty well.“

John was grinning now, but Sherlock still couldn't tell what's going on through his head.

“That's spot on,“ John tittered, head bowing down.

“Then what about this? John, I know those people who you live with... those aren't your parents, right?“

“No.“ John didn't ask any questions, all he said was that simple word, much to Sherlock's surprise.

“Ehm- right, well, I guess now you may go.“

“Sorry what?“

“Well, now you know what kind of a freak I really am so I guess you want to either slap me or leave.“

“Why on earth would I do any of that?“

“Because I am an idiot.“

“That you are, Sherlock Holmes,“ John sniggered. “But only because you think this would work on me. It was brilliant by the way.“

“You-you think so?“

John could notice those sparkles in Sherlock's eyes. “Of course.“

“And you’re staying.“

“Well, yes?“

“You know what I am... and you're still staying.“

“Does it seem I am going anywhere?“

“No, that’s the weird part. People usually run away or-or I don't know yell at me or something.“

“Well, as it turns out I might not be the usual, Sherlock.“

“That you aren't, John,“ Sherlock chuckled, letting John to pull him into another hug.


	3. Chapter 3

Several months have passed and Sherlock and John were unseparable. John made sure no one even dares to look at Sherlock the wrong way and in the instance, the mere presence of his friend by his side was enough for him. He simply enjoyed when they were together, when they laughed and talked about the weirdest stuff, when Sherlock spent hours and hours blabbering about the bees and John could just watch him and listen to him without worrying about anything. It happened all so fast, John considered it a miracle. They became friends like overnight, in the very first second their eyes met and they grew so close no one could tear them apart. John spent every afternoon at Sherlock’s place and he usually stayed for dinner, leaving only very reluctantly. Each time he was already heading down the street, Sherlock watched him from the window in his room,  up until he couldn’t see nothing of him. Only after John completely disappeared, Sherlock rolled into his bed, cuddling with John’s hoodie since he refused to sleep in anything else.

Their lives have been perfect or so they thought. Both of them acted happy but deep down there’s been something bothering them. And both of them have been scared to death that if they’d let it sweep out, they would most likely lose the person they cared about the most in the world. So they were practically dancing around each other, losing the precious time without knowing the other person wants exactly the same.

 

“Hey, that’s the new girl.“

“New girl?“ Sherlock didn’t even lift his eyes up from his notebook.

“Yeah, there.“

Sherlock had no idea why John wants him to look at a anyone, not least a girl. He turned around just because, but was left staring. For whatever odd reason.

“What’s her name?“

“What’s her-her name, wait what?“ Although John seemed to be obviously interested in the girl who took a seat in the desk not so far from theirs, the moment Sherlock also showed that glimpse of sympathy he immediately sulked, looking daggers at her.

“Why do you care?“ John growled.

“Sorry?“ Sherlock turned back to John, with that sweet innocence in his face and unfortunately for John, a bit of a confusion.

“Irene, her name is Irene,“ John cleared his throat, bashfully slumping down on his chair, blushing a little.

“Is everything okay?“ Sherlock asked, his hand unwittingly landing on John’s shoulder.

“Why wouldn’t be?“

“I just asked about the girl’s name and you started to act a bit... weird.“

John gasped, but no words were leaving his mouth. Much to his displeasure, Irene just approached their desk, delivering Sherlock rather a flirty smile. Even her voice was full of obnoxious skittishness.

“Sherlock Holmes, the boy everyone’s talking about.“

“They do?“ Sherlock frowned as he, a bit timidly, glanced right into Irene’s eyes. “I thought they’ve stopped months ago.“

“Don’t worry, it’s been nothing harmful,“ Irene grinned. “I have to say though, they’ve missed out quite important details.“

“Like?“

“No one told me you’ve got such an angelic face.“

Sudden crack made Sherlock jerk up. He quickly turned to face John who’s been silently fuming behind his back for the whole time, spasmodically clinging on what was left of the pencil he’s been holding.

“John, for God’s sakes, what is this about?“

John didn’t seem to be willing to answer, his jaw’s been clenging while he‘s been making the most annoyed face Sherlock‘s ever seen. Meanwhile, Irene already left the place, confidently smirking as she sat back next to her friend.

“John?“ Not even Sherlock’s frightened expression made John turn to act as usual.

“She was _flirting_ with you,“ he spitted out with disgust, keep staring at Irene as if he was about to incinerate her with his own heated breath.

“She was?“

“Yes, of course she was.“

“I really doubt that, John,“ Sherlock objected.

“Oh come on, _angelic face_?“

“John, calm down, she’s a... well, let’s say boys aren’t really her area.“

“What?“

Sherlock beckoned behind self. “Look at here now, how she’s staring at Janine. Batting her lashes, pouting lips, playing with strands of her hairs, typical signs of affection. She was just being nice, intoducing herself since she’s new,“ Sherlock explained. “Anyway, why would it bother you even if she was flirting with me?“ He pinned John down with his eyes, patiently waiting for an answer.

“It was just-just odd.“ John has been really a bad lier and Sherlock knew it. He always stuttered when he was trying to avoid the truth.

“John, I am-“ Sherlock wavered for a second, checking around if no one’s close enough to hear them. He was sure everyone already knows, but he was also dead sure he’s not ready to talk about it out loud, so his voice was just a wispher. “You know I am not interested in girls. She wouldn’t stand a chance.“

“I know,“ John gasped. “But the way you’ve been looking at her, Sherlock. The way she’s been _smiling_ at you-“

“John, you smile at me all the time.“

Right after those words escaped Sherlock’s throat, he wished he’d rather bite his tongue. The silence that fell in between them could be easily considered awkward. John opened his mouth but it was just left hanging open without any sound coming out. Sherlock’s eyebrows narrowed, his lips quavering a bit, he clearly said something he didn’t really intend to.

“I hope you don’t-“

John shook his head. “No, no, it’s okay. You’re right after all. Fuck, I mean- whatever, forget about it.“

“No, John, I am truly sorry, I know you’re nowhere near that kind of a boy.“ John refused to look at him anymore, he just muttered somehing that sounded close to ‘it doesn’t matter‘, but Sherlock couldn’t be sure.

Once his last class was over, John quickly packed his things and left the class, shuffling down the hallway alone, with his head bowed down. He left Sherlock somewhere behind, but didn’t care at all.

They barely spoke to each other for the rest of the day and for the first time in countless of weeks, John decided to not stop by Sherlock’s house that afternoon. He went straight home, merely saying a goodbye, something that made Sherlock genuinely confused and hurt. It was all absurd, he didn’t even said anything horrible, but it still made John upset for some reason.

John’s mind’s been so bothered thinking about Sherlock and the stuff they both said, that the boy didn’t even pay attention while walking through the half empty corridor. Hitting the open door sure didn’t help him to not burst out yelling out of frustration.

“ _Fuck_!“ Few heads have turned towards the noise, but John payed zero attention to them. Lucky enough, he didn’t hurt himself so he could continue walking as if nothing have happened. Up until he didn’t notice a couple of girls rather eagerly making out in the dark behind the same door he just slammed against. He wouldn’t care, not least at the moment, but it certainly surprised him who one of the girls was.

“J-Janine?“ John took a step back, unable to process what’s happening in front of his eyes.

Girls jerked back off each other, both out of breath and dishevelled, Janine’s blouse has been unbuttoned almost all the way down. “Oh, John, hi – oh my God, this is awkward... ehm, you already had a fortune to meet Irene, right?“

“Yeah, we’re sort of a classmates, in case you haven’t noticed.“ John nodded, still a bit bewildered.

Janine tittered a little, her cheeks turning bright red and not just because Irene’s hand’s been nonchalantly slithering down the small of her back.

“Excuse me, Janine, this will probably come out as a weird remark, but...I thought you were...well, straight.“

“Disappointed?“ Irene waggled her eyebrows while sort of a protectively pulling Janine closer by her waist.

“No, I don’t give a damn actually.“

Irene smirked. “Already taken?“

“T-taken?“

“You and Sherlock.“

“What a nonsense, we’re- we’re not a couple,“ John hissed under his breath.

“Yes, you are.“

John’s fists clenched, but he remained quite calm. “Look, Irene, you might be gay, but I am certainly not, understand?“

“Of course you’re not,“ Irene rolled her eyes, letting go of Janine. She took a few steps towards John, who, despite being a boy, was still shorter than her. Irene was basically glaring at him from above, as if she was claiming some sort of a power over him as she spoke.

“But would it matter that Sherlock is a boy,hm?“

“What the bloody hell are you talking about?“

“Please, Sherlock Holmes is not the only genius around here, dear. On the other hand though, you don’t even have to be a genius to see what’s going on. Just one quick glance was enough for me to see those hearts in your eyes when you were looking at him. Not to mention that strike of jealousy when you saw me in his presence. I wasn’t flirting with him, by the way, that much is true. I know he wouldn’t respond, because I am well aware of what kind of a man he really is.“

John swallowed hard. “You do?“

“Of course. And I also know what secrets _you’re_ hiding.“

“Jesus, for a thousandth time, I am not gay.“

“I’ve never said you are. But think about Sherlock and ask yourself a question: Does it really matter?“

Irene turned on her heels and after gripping Janine’s wrist they both walked away hand in hand.

 

It took John a while, till he was able to move from the spot. He was even more confused than before, not to mention he was now also flaming with anger, ready to punch whoever would dare to cross his path. Not even because of what Sherlock said anymore, but because Irene‘s been most likely right. From the first moment he and Sherlock met, John felt like he was born anew, his life finally made sense. But it wasn’t just a close friend he was missing, he was missing true love and he felt it when he was with Sherlock. But Sherlock was a boy, it was unacceptable for John to have such feelings for a _boy_. At least that’s what John was telling himself.

The truth was - sometimes he found other boys attractive, just like girls, but whenever such a thought invaded his mind, he tried to surprass it, because John Watson can’t be anything like that, right? But now, Irene’s words were following like a ghost – _would it matter that Sherlock is a boy_?

John was sure it wouldn’t. He wanted nothing more but for it to not matter. Sometimes, whenever they were together alone, he had this strong urge to just let it all slip out of his mouth, to tell Sherlock how he feels, to kiss him on those firm lips and hold him tight. But then again, he wasn’t even sure Sherlock would let him, that he’d feel the same towards him.

 

* * *

The next day, once John walked into the class, Sherlock‘s been already there, sitting in the front desk, his eyes rapidly flicking throught the text in the book. When John saw him like that, he couldn’t help but think about what would have changed if he just went straight ahead and told him. He caught Irene’s wink from the last desk and suddenly, all the courage was gone. John was apparently a coward, he simply couldn’t admit that he fell in love with his best friend, not least when his best friend was the same gender. So instead, he pulled on a facade, letting it all go, just pretending.

“Hey, busy little bee, aren’t we?“ John grinned as he approached Sherlock and took his seat next to him.

“You’re talking to me?“ Sherlock’s brows raised, his glasses sliding down his nose.

“Well, why wouldn’t I be?“ John squinted.

“I mean, you seemed angry with me. After what I’ve said. I am sorry again, John, I made it sound like you’d be intersted in me which is of course not a case, so-“

“Oh shut up already.“ John felt like someone’s been squeezing his heart. First Irene, and now Sherlock who is bringing this topic up again. He’s been trying so hard to keep it out of his mind but everyone’s keep reminding him since yesterday, even Sherlock himself.

“I said forget about it and I meant it. I am not angry with you, actually, I‘ve pretty overreacted so I should be the one apologising.“

“Hm, so does that mean you’re going home with me today?“ Sherlock asked shyly, oblivious to John’s kind lying. “I mean, my mother was kind of a freaking out, she suspected we... broke up or something. I don’t know how many times do I have to tell her you are as straight as this ruler,“ Sherlock chuckled.

“She really wants us together, doesn’t she?“ John giggled, but it was also the moment he wanted to mentally punch himself, why was he playing that game in the first place.

Sherlock sighed. “Well, a wish I can’t grant her even if it was possible. She’s just eager for me to finally get someone. Other people’s parents would be glad their gay son is still single, but no, my mother probably already wants me to marry you. I-I-I mean someone, not you, anyone... not _anyone_ , but-“

“I get that, don’t worry,“ John laughed, but then his face turned into much more serious one. A little voice in his head, surprisingly, sounding much like Irene’s, has been telling him to give up and let his feelings be shown. John glanced behind self, suspiciously peering at Irene who’s been glaring right back at him. That crazy girl must’ve been possesing some kind of telepathic powers.

John turned back to Sherlock after a moment of hesitation, smiling, but not even thinking before the question he was about to ask left his mouth.

“Sherlock, since we’re talking about it anyway,ehm... you never actually had anyone, right?“

Sherlock shook his head, eyes gliding away from John. “I don’t want to talk about it, especially not here, John. Kids might be listening.“

“Ok, fine, I am not forcing you to tell me anything.“ John was sure that no one is paying attention to them, but he still happily changed the subject, much to his own relief. “So... I reckon you’re ready for the test.“

Sherlock finally smiled again. “Well, you’ve came and distracted me, so I am not sure about this last page, but I’ve absorbed as many informations as I could till then so I should be fine. You know, I’ve had plenty of time yesterday since you weren’t around, so I’ve spent the whole day learning.“

“That’s great, because I did the right opposite. I have zero idea what this bloody test will be about.“

“Why didn’t you study?“ Sherlock’s brows raised. “Honestly, what you’ve been doing yesterday?“

It was now John who purposefully avoided Sherlock’s glance. He certainly didn’t want to let his best friend know that he’s been on the verge of breaking everything around just because of his repressed feelings.

“Wasting my time, Sherlock.“

 

 

 

 

 


	4. Chapter 4

Last month has been really tough for John Watson. Since Irene Adler confronted him and his feelings, he simply couldn’t get it out of his head. It has been a constant struggle, one moment he almost said everything out loud, the other he was quickly sweeping it under the carpet so Sherlock hopefully wouldn’t notice a thing.

Now, few weeks before the end of school they were studying for the final tests, locked behind the door of Sherlock’s bedroom again. At least Sherlock’s been studying, John has been just glaring at him like he was the most precious gem in this world.

 

“Any ideas for the summer?“

“Hm?“ Sherlock barely listened to what John’s been asking him about, he was being too occupied reading.

John laughed. “Hey, I hope you’re not the type of boy who spends those two months you’re supposed to be having fun with studying for another year.“

“Usually not,“ Sherlock sighed, then glanced away as if he was hiding something. “I am going to have a little time for that anyway. Argh, but the next year is the most important, John. Do you realise it is our last one?“

John just lazily waved his hand. He’s been sitting on the edge of Sherlock’s bed, piercing his eyes upon the tall boy who’s been scrouching above his desk, frantically taking notes, trying to learn as much as his genius head could take.

“I don’t take it as seriously, Sherlock. Besides, this last year I’d consider much more important as the one that is yet to come.“

“Why is that?“

John smiled. “Because of you.“

It wasn’t until now that Sherlock turned around to face John again. There was that typical sparkle in his eyes, something that happened whenever he was happy or touched.

“Because of _me_?“

“Of course,“ John nodded. “You are the best thing that have ever happened to me.“ John caught himself saying that without even considering it before. But there was no room for denying it anymore, he already said similar the very first day they met after all.

“John-“

“No, it’s true. I know, I’ve used pretty heavy words, but, Sherlock... it’s all true.“

“What have I done to deserve this, John?“ Single tear rolled down Sherlock’s cheek and suddenly, not even those damn books were important.

“You didn’t have to do anything. You’ve been yourself and that’s enough for me. And it should be enough for you too. You are amazng and unique, Sherlock, can’t you see it?“ John almost added something that was not only inappropriate but also so stupid he rather bit his tongue. _I love you, Sherlock, I love you so much it hurts me_.

Sherlock raised up from his chair and not even hesitating he took a seat next to John and tightly embraced him. “Thank you, John.“

John’s been in awe for only a split of second before his hands rested upon Sherlock’s back.

“Don’t thank me. I owe _you_. I was alone and you’ve saved me, Sherlock. I was drowning but you pulled me out of that dark, cold deepness. I just...I...“

Sherlock pulled back a little, trying to maybe deduce what John is about to say, but he was clueless. Their faces were out of nowhere so close now, John would rather jump out of the window than having to face Shelock like this, knowing he can’t do anything unless he wants to lose his best friend. Because he was sure that’d happen if he just leaned an inch closer to kiss the boy.

Sherlock on the other side was feeling the same, what an awful tragedy that was. Although never even trying to kiss anyone, he felt the same massive pulse to lock their lips as John.

“I think I should go back to studying.“ Sherlock quickly let go of John, his face crimson and sweat building up on his forehead. John felt just emptiness when Sherlock’s arms slid away from his back.

“I am - I am afraid we won’t spend te summer together, John.“

That emptiness John felt just turned into a sock and an odd kind of a pain. “What do you mean?“

“My parents and I- well, my whole family... we have plans already.“

“Plans?“

“Yeah, you know, each summer we’re taking a trip round the different parts of world. This year it’s been Mycroft choosing the road, so Eastern Europe it is.“

“East- Eastern Europe? Why didn’t you tell me sooner?“ John’s voice raised a little. Sherlock mentally shrinked in front of his friend who just jumped up from the bed so fast it’s been a bit surreal.

“I’ve no idea how. Look, it’s going to be just six weeks.“

“Six weeks?“ John almost collapsed back on the mattress. One afternoon without Sherlock’s been a torture, what was he supposed to do during six weeks of loneliness.

“Yeah, well, I am not being particulary happy about it either, but it’s our family tradition, John. I can’t just say I am not going anywhere.“

John took a deep breath to appear calm but he was not being far from breaking something.

“So, let me get this straight. I assume you are going to spend two weeks of summer studying for the next year, which is completely absurd by the way, and then you’re going to fly off to some fucking distant country and-“

“You’re getting angry for no reason. Again, John.“ Sherlock immediately regretted cutting John mid-sentence.

“Of course I am! You should’ve told me sooner.“ John bursted out of the room, about to leave, but Sherlock heard him coming back the very next moment.

John avoided Sherlock’s glance, his eyes has been pinned down on his feet. “I am sorry, that was totally uncalled for.“

This time Sherlock didn’s say any soothing words or that everything is fine and okay. “You clearly have an issue, John. You can’t control your temper, what’s wrong?“

John shut his eyes tight, his fists’s been clenching again, saying those words right now would be a huge mistake.

“It’s-it’s nothing. I am just being overhelmed with school and such.“

“Oh come on, next time at least try to come up with a better lie. Since when are you any concerned with school?“

“Fine, you’re right. Sherlock, it has nothing to do with school. It has to do with... you.“

Sherlock squinted, John could see he’s starting to feel somehow guilty for something that’s not even his fault. “You’ve done nothing, don’t worry. I just can’t believe you’re going to leave me for almost two months. Do you have any idea how much I am going to miss you?“

“It won’t be so bad, John.“ Serlock was lying to himself, because he knew he’s going to miss John maybe even more. He wanted nothing else but spend all the time in the world with his best friend. It was such a strong connection neither of them could explain, but then again, there wasn’t any need for an explanation, it was just pure love, born of friendship, although the time to admit it was yet to come. If they weren’t so scared of rejection, or whatever they were scared of, they would easily be the happiest people on the Earth right now.

 

During those few weeks they had left for themselves, John did everything, even impossible, to be with Sherlock. Both of them did exeptionally good on their final tests, so Sherlock didn’t even think about the school anymore. Those two weeks he promised himself he’ll be studying he spend with John, doing everything but reading and studying. On the dark side, those fourteen days have passed with a speed of light. Suddenly it was the middle of July and Sherlock was all prepared to leave for the holiday.

 

* * *

 

 

“This is ridiculous, it’s not a farewell.“ John was nervously standing there in front of Sherlock’s house, hands shoved in his pockets.

“I know it’s not.“ Sherlock agreed, then his head bowed down. It was almost as if he was trying to say something but some strange circumstances were preventing him from doing so.

“Listen, John, I need to tell you something... those past few days, weeks, what am I talking about... since I’ve befriended you... it was so much, well...“

“Fun?“

“Yes, but that’s not what I meant to say. My point is that... oh God, this is so hard... you are the best human being I’ve ever had a fortune knowing.“

“Sherl-“

“No, let me finish. Without you my life doesn’t make any sense and frankly, these six weeks are going to be a horror. Without exaggerating. I’ll be sending you text severy single day and I am expecting the same from you.“

John’s been so confused he could merely utter a word. “Yes, fine, of course, but... why are you acting like we’re not meant to see each other again?“

Sherlock’s face’s been now paler than usual. “You’re going to think I am stupid.“

“No, I am positive I won’t, what’s the matter?“

Sherlock shuffled a little closer, his voice just above a wispher. “I don’t have a good feeling about all this. I feel this... lump in my throat, something bad is going to happen.“

John could feel chills running down his spine. “Don’t even say such a thing. You’re going to come back home in one piece, understand?“

“I don’t think it has to do anything with me, John,“ Sherlock shook his head. “Nor it must mean anything tragic. It’s just a bad feel-“

Sherlock’s been silenced when John’s phone buzzed.

“Oh Christ, who’s this again,“ John picked the phone out of his pocket. That frown on his face was enough for Sherlock to know whose name was flashing on the screen.

“Mary?“

“Yes, she couldn’t have pick a better time to be annoying again.“

“So, you won’t be asking her out?“

John almost let the phone fall on the ground. “What makes you think I’d want to ask her out?“

“Well, she’s been up to something lately. And for as far as I recall, you’ve not been in a relationship for more than eight months so...“

“Jesus, are we really going to talk about Mary now, Sherlock? I am not looking for any kind of a relationship right now.“ Lie. A one that Sherlock’s been far too oblivious to. Because John would pay anything to be in a relationship with the boy that was standing right in front of him. But yes, he was still a boy and John had no idea what an imapct all that would have on his life.

They’ve been chatting for another few minutes till Sherlock’s mother yelled so loud at her son that it made John jump a little.

“Oh, I guess you have to go.“

“Yes, it seem so.“

Neither of them wanted to go though. John’s phone’s been buzzing again inside his pocket but he payed no attention to the noise. Sherlock’s ams’s been already wrapped around his shoulders and John alone was holding that tall boy so tight he could pobably easily crunch his bones if he’d want to.

“Don’t worry, it will pass so fast you won’t even notice.“

“If you say so,“ John sniffed. It was embarassing, but he couldn’t hold back the tears when Sherlock let go of him and walked away towards the car. It was as if the moment itself has been prompting him to finally swallow the fear and tell Sherlock the whole truth.

“Sherlock!“

Sherlock quickly turned back, almost taking steps back to John when he called after him.

“John?“

“I-“ those words were already there, tickling John’s tongue, ready to be heard. But as always, John couldn’t bring himself to do it. What he said instead was so preposterous and lame, he wished he‘d rather not even yelled Sherlock’s name in te first place. “Nothing, just, be safe... you are my best friend.“

Shelock smiled, he had no idea about John’s inner struggle. “You are my only friend, John.“

 

Friends. That’s what they were. Just friends. When John came home after Sherlock left, he just fell down on his bed without any attempts to stop himself from crying. Whatever it was preventing them from being a couple, it was so forceful John had no energy left fightinig it. What if Sherlock doesn’t feel the same? What if people would bully him again once he’d show up with a boyfriend in the public? What if the whole wolrd just turned against them once John would claimed his love for Sherlock? There were so many obstacles in their way, at least John himself has been putting them in there, that he’d eventually told himself that giving up will be certainly a better choice than living this misery.

 

It’s been four weeks, John could barely make it by himself. He was of course hanging out with Greg, Mike, Molly, even Mary, although she’s been now trying even harder to catch his attention. But not even the presence of his old friends has been enough to not make him feel so lonely. He’s been texting with Sherlock each day as they’ve promised, but it’s not been the same when he wasn’t around. John craved for him, Sherlock’s been like a drug, he needed him more than air, more than anything.

It’s been obvious how John’s been missing Sherlock, since he took any opportunity to get drunk and forget. Everyone’s been telling him that he’s crazy and too young to have such absurd manners but he couldn’t care less. He could survive that time without Sherlock if he knew that once he’s back he can just kiss the hell out of him and tell him he loves him beyond imaginable, but no, they were just friends, such thing was not possible.

 

John was simply alone again while Sherlock was gone. So alone and so desperate, that once while being so drunk he could barely walk or think properly, he absent-mindedly answered his constantly buzzing phone. It didn’t take too much for Mary to be standing on his porch just a few minutes from the moment he sort of unwillingly invited her.


	5. Chapter 5

John’s never been happier the summer is coming close to an end. He could think about nothing else but Sherlock. Those almost two months without him’s been an agony for John. Although what has been bothering him maybe even a little more was the mistake he’s done about two weeks ago. Such a mistake that made him feel like a traitor, cheater, even though him and Sherlock never been in a relationship.

John’s been so drunk that night he called Mary, he can barely remember a thing. He wouldn’t even know what happened unless Mary herself told him. John was so hopeless that night that, not even knowing how and why in the first place, him and Mary were dating since then. Something he had no idea how to tell Sherlock. He didn’t even know why was he in a relationsip with a girl whom he never find particulary suitable for him, he just needed someone to comfort him and Mary happily offered her help. John kind of a felt he ended up dating her by some weird accident, but the mere thought about impossibility of having Sherlock the way he wanted to was making a drunken wreck of him. It was probably for the best he found someone else to help him forget abouth the person he can’t have. Or at least the person, he _thinks_ he can’t have.

 

* * *

 

 

“John!“ Sherlock‘s voice made John feel like he’s just leaped off from the ground, soaring up to the sky.

“Finally,“ he gasped, running straight into Sherlock’s arms. John promised Sherlock he’ll wait for him in front of his house and he’s certainly kept that promise, frantically pacing for two hours around the yard.

“You have no idea how much I’ve missed you,“ Sherlock sniffed, tightly wrapping his arms around John.

“I’ve missed you more,“ John mumbled. “It felt like ages, I thought you’re never coming back.“

“It’s been just six weeks,“ Sherlock tittered. “I told you it will pass.“ He pulled back a little, both of them beaming like sun, but as soon they glared into each other’s eyes they grins turned upside down and faces became stones. All of a sudden, John rememberd their last chat before Sherlock left and he wanted to go back in time and say what he wanted to say for so long. Now it was too late.

“Why- why don’t we go inside, hm?“

Sherlock’s face turned even more sad. “Oh no, something‘s happened, right?“

John’s been a little besotted for a second, but soon he remebered it is Sherlock Holmes, the genius, standing in front of him.

“Well... fine, you’re not wrong. There is no reason to beat around the brush after all. But still... I’d be glad if we were discussing it behind the closed doors.“

“So it is bad news.“

“Sherlock, please, come in, I’ll explain everything.“

John embraced Sherlock’s shoulders with his arm and led him inside the house.

 

Once they were in the kitchen, John pointed towards the chair. “Sit down,“ he requested politely, his voice a bit serious although there was a smile hanging upon his face. Imitation of a smile indeed.

“John, you’re scaring me.“

“No, no, it’s nothing to be scared about, it’s just... it’s rather important. For me at least.“ Was it really important? Even John himself doubted it, he was sure that his relationship with Mary won’t last for very long. John was being in love with someone else after all and what happened was solely because of alcohol and the fact that he was being miserable and lonely. Nothing more. John wasn’t even sure what was the mere purpose of being a couple with Mary Morstan, but at least he could think about something else for a while. But Sherlock’s been back now and John realised he loves him even deeply than before. In the same time though, he couldn’t just break up with Mary now, without an apparent reason, it would hurt her and John certainly didn’t want to achieve that. Mary truly helped him get out of the mud after all, even though it was all just a few shots of drink which caused it.

“So, Sherlock.“ John acted so sternly it would be probably funny if it wasn’t equally serious.

“Jesus, this is so dfficult, I don’t even know why, we’re just friends after all.“ That wasn’t necessary to point out and John knew it, he made it sound so bitter he couldn’t be angrier with himself right now.

“I am sorry, whatever, the point, Sherlock, is that... I’ve found someone.“

“What?“ Wheter was Sherlock hurt or not, John had no idea, the boy didn’t show any emotion. Sad enough, he probably didn’t even understand at first.

“I mean, I am dating someone, Sherlock. Mary.“

“Mary? So you and Ma-Mary?“ Sherlock stuttered, wanting to turn away but he was like paralyzed, unable to move.

“Yes,“ John nodded, his heart’s been aching. Sherlock’s face when he told him that he and Mary Morstan are now a couple - John’s never seen someone break down that fast.

“You okay?“

“Why shouldn’t I be? I am happy for you.“ It was everything but true, Sherlock felt like he’s just taken his final breath, like his life just stopped having a purpose.

“You look far from happy, Sherlock.“

“I am fine, John.“

“If you are worried, nothing will change between the two of us, you know. It’s just... we probably won’t be together as much as before.“

“That’s uderstandable,“ Sherlock sighed.

“Doesn’t mean you can hang out with us sometimes.“

“No I can’t. It wouldn’t be appropriate, I’d feel like a third wheel.“

“That’s absurd.“

“Is it? You know how it’d be going, right?“ Sherlock’s voice surprisingly raised up a little. “You and Mary would be cuddling and kiss-kissing all the time and I would what? Watching you? I am sorry, but if you think that I would- that I- oh heck-“ Sherlock jumped up from the chair, leaving the room without saying another word. John was left alone, confused and absolutely shocked.

 

* * *

 

 

“He will pull through,“ Mary smiled, reaching for John’s hand. He hesitated a bit before taking it into his own.

“I am not sure, he seemed really hurt.“

“Oh, I am postive Sherlock’s going to be okay. He has to accept the two us are being together now.“

“You don’t understand, Mary. He’s so sensible and... and it’s so hard for him to-“

“Christ, John, are we’re going to talk about _him_ all over again?“ Mary hissed, her voice suddenly raw, far from the usual sweet.

“Excuse me?“ John shoved Mary’s hand away, frowning.

“Oh come on, John. Since we got together I hear about nothing but how Sherlock turned your life around. Your precious Sherlock Holmes, that’s all you want to talk about. You should stop obsessing over him, I am getting exhausted. What’s your problem after all, he’s already back and safe, everything’s in order.“

“I am not bloody obsessing,“ John sulked. “He’s my best friend. He will always be the most important for me.“

“You can’t be serious right now.“

“Actually, I am. You know nothing about me, how I’ve been before I met him,“ John fumed.

“Maybe not, but I know how you’ve been while he was gone. Don’t forget who helped you get through that stupid breakdown.“

“S-stupid?“

Mary rolled her eyes. “John, you’ve been _crying_ after your friend who left for just a few weeks. If I knew you’re such a-“

“Such a what? Hm? God, Mary, you have no idea what I’ve been through before I’ve met Sherlock Holmes. You - you understand nothing.

“I am your girlfriend, John, I know you better than anyone.“

With each passing minute was John being more sure of the horrible mistake he’s done.

“Christ, you must’ve took some fucking weed from Anderson, right? What are you talking about? You think we’re having some serious shit going on here? We’ve been together for just two weeks and, oh, fuck it, why are we even dating in the first place? I see nothing but dark in front of me while thinking about the future which involves you.“

It’s been Mary now who raged on. “Oh, don’t be an idiot, John. If you didn’t want me, why would you answer that phone call back then? You let me help you, I am the best thing that could have happened to you, stop denying it.“

John must’ve laughed after what he just heard, it was really a creepy laugh though. “I am sorry, but that spot has been taken long before you decided to control my life. You know what _I_ don’t get? You’ve been listening me ranting about Sherlock for two weeks, and okay, thank you for being patient so far, but what have changed? You’re acting like a bloody psychopat, Mary.“

“So now you’re going to insult me? You want to break up with me? You’ve used me as a fill for Sherlock while he was gone and now you just throw me away like a piece of meat once he's back?“ Mary’s eyes were now glassy and full of tears, but John wasn’t sure they weren’t fake. He should feel sorry, but all what Mary just said was so out of place he couldn’t help himself. He was being shamelessly satisfied with this sudden turn of events.

“Mary, all of this was just a mistake. Forgive me, but that’s how it is. It’s useless to be dating someone who I don’t love, frankly, who, right now, I despise. We had a one night and, fuck, I am going to hell for this, but I am glad I don’t remmeber any of it. It’s over, Mary. And not just because you think so wrong of Sherlock. Shit, now I know you weren’t truly honest when you said you like him back when I’ve introduced you.“

There was no retort coming from Mary. Not until she stood up and faced John. Her face was red and her eyes so dark it made John cringe a little. “I’ve helped you,“ she growled. “I gave you all my love.  And I know you feel the same, John. You’re just being too blind towards our love, because of that freak who messed up your mind.“

“Get out of my house,“ John hissed. His voice has been frighteningly calm. It’s been obvious that Mary is the one being a freak here. John couldn’t believe that daftness she let to slip out of her mouth. If she was a man, he’d grab her and shove her out of the house himself, but he didn’t want to lose his nerve, she wasn’t worth it.

“Didn’t you hear me? For the last time, get the fuck out of my house or I am going to do something I’ll regret. Leave, now, I don’t want to see you ever again, you’ll be forever just one of the biggest mistakes of my life.“

John was sure Mary would spit into his face, but she didn’t, thankfully. She just turned around and stomped out of the room by herself, leaving John alone.

 

It took John few days till he could bring himself to ring at Sherlock’s door. He of course gave him a phone call much earlier, letting him know what happened, how he ended up with Mary anyway and aplogising in the same time, but he still couldn‘t stand up and see him in person. Once he did though, he couldn’t be more surprised after seeing who opened the door.

“Irene?“

Tall brunette’s been standing there in her lovely red dress and grinning. “John, what a coincidence.“

Sherlock rushed towards the doorway so quickly, John barely percieved.

“I told her it’s most likely going to be you so she shouldn’t be opening the door, but she wouldn’t listen and... John, listen, it’s not what it looks like.“

Sherlock’s been so adorable apologising that John could hardly resist smiling.

“Sherlock, it’s okay. Unless you won’t let me in.“

 

The three of them were seated in the sitting room, John feeling a bit uneasy, since he had no idea what’s going on. He tried to fight that toxic jealousy that has been binding around his body like a snake, but whenever there was anyone, especially Irene, in Sherlock’s presence, he couldn’t control his mind nor feelings. The fact that she was sitting between them on that large sofa didn’t help either.

Irene, however wasn’t even paying attention to Sherlock right now, she’s been turned away from him, completely concentrated on John. “John, I am sorry for what happened with Mary.“

“Don’t be,“ John grunted. “I am glad I’ve ended it. Worst decision of my life. Damn, it’s been just two weeks, I am probably pretty overreacting, but that’s how it is.“

Silence descended. It seemed as if Sherlock wanted to say something, but sensing it would take him ages, Irene beat him to it.

“John, do you know a boy name David?“

That question’s been so weird and unexpected that John took a pause before responding. “Ehm, no. At least I don’t think so. Why?“

“I reckon you want to know why I am here and this is the reason,“ Irene replied, but it wasn’t really telling. John’s been even more puzzled than before.

“I don’t get it.“

“Look, you know Mary and Janine were sort of a friends, right? They are not anymore, but that’s not the point. The point is that Mary recklessly told Janine everything she’s been doing, because she thought of her as pretty stupid, she thought that Janine won’t tell anyone. As it turns out Mary was the one being stupid, because, oh, my girl is far from being dull.“ Sort of a proud smile has been spread across Irene's face.

“I am really trying to catch on, Irene, but truth be told, I am pretty lost.“

Irene glanced behind her back at Sherlock but he just shrugged, staying silent, so it was all up to her.

“Fine, long story short. What Mary told Janine, for whatever reason, maybe she enjoyed talking about those wicked acts she commited – Janine told _me_ right after. And the thing is, Mary really is kind of a-“

“Psychopath?“

“I was about to say weird, but I guess this works too. John, Mary and that David I was asking you about were, well-“

“Sleeping together?“ John finished the sentence instead of her. “So she’s been cheating on me.“ He sounded far from surprised, right opposite, he actually sounded quite amused. “Who’s this David, I should warn him before it’s too late.“

“John, there is something more,“ Sherlock sighed, finally uttering a sentence.

“What else? There were more of them? How many? Maybe we should invite them and tell them about-“

“John, listen to me,“ Sherlock insisted as he jumped up from the couch. “That’s not _all_. She- I mean you two-you never really had, you know... sex.“

Hearing Sherlock saying that word was like hearing a cute little girl swearing like an old crusty sailor. Both Irene and John delivered him sort of a wry smile. Then John percieved however.

“No, wait, what are you talking about? We did, that night, she told me-oh.“

“Yeah, _she_ told you,“ Irene chuckled. “You don’t remember much from that night, do you?“

“Nothing,“ John shook his head. “It’s all blurry, all I remember is that... no, actually, I can’t remember a damn thing.“ There was a flood of relief spreading all over his body as he realised that nothing really happened that night and it was all just a Mary’s lie.

“See? She manipulated you, that’s what she does. For fun, or whatever. She likes to fool a boy, especially a popular one, like you. Sometimes she makes them feel guilty once they can’t stand her manners and want to break up with her. I can’t believe you didn’t notice what kind of a girl she is, you’ve been friends before for God’s sakes. I knew her for three months or so and I already had her read-through.“

Irene’s been right. Again, as always. John himself had no idea how he could let all that happen. The way he’s been feeling towards Sherlock’s been apparently driving him completely mad. Either he tells him how he feels as soon as possible or he’s going to become a lunatic.

“So, I guess we got this all sorted out,“ Irene sighed out contentedly. “You won’t be needing me anymore.“ She headed towards the anteroom, but John stopped her before she grabbed the doorknob.

“Wait, why telling me all this? Why bother?“

Irene smirked as she turned back to face them. “To ease your mind. You don’t deserve living such a lie, John Watson. Immediately after Janine told me about Mary’ sick intentions I knew where I should be going.“

“Ok, well, I appreciate your help, but why did you tell Sherlock first? If I didn’t interrupt... would I ever know?“

“Of course,“ Irene laughed. “I told Sherlock first because I wanted it to be _him_ who tells you. But as it seems, better you came. I guess Sherlock would take forever before you would understand a thing.“

John blinked. “That’s fucking complicated, wouldn’t it be easier if Janine just went straight to me after Mary told her? Instead of making things such theatrical and dramatic?“

“You speak of making things easier? While you act like a smitten idiot who can’t face the one you want the most and your feelings although there is literally nothing standing in your way?“

After what she said, Irene disappeared so quickly John didn’t even have a chance to catch a breath she took him. He risked one glance at Sherlock, but thankfully, he had apparently zero idea what Irene meant by all that. Sherlock glared back at him, his brows narrowed out of confusion but once John, a little shyly, smiled at him, he let all that he’s been questioning go.

“So, we have a little time for ourselves,“ he clapped, easing a tension a bit.

“Tea?“

“Sure.“

 

 

 

 


	6. Chapter 6

John was lying on his back, trying to finally drift off to sleep, but it was useless since his mind has been working on its own. A little against John’s will, it started creating quite vivid and rather naughty images, John was basically trembling with the need to touch himself. And of course it has been Sherlock who didn’t let him sleep. Sherlock and his dark chocolate curls, his beautifully kissable lips, his perfectly proportioned face and that gorgeous warm smile he’s been saving for no one but John. It’s been rather subtle so far, but soon John gave up, letting it all escalate into nastiness.

He’s been having such thoughts quite often lately, but usually, he tried to fight it at least. For whatever reason though, he didn’t ignore it that night. Not this time. His hand slid down under the duvet and simultaneously behind his pants, which has been ruined enough already for John to throw them away right after he’s finished.

John’s mind’s been practically flooded with the filthiest fantasies he could come up with. Wriggling on the mattress, lost in delicious vision, John’s been eagerly thrusting into his own fist while desperately clinging on the edge of the bed with his free hand. Just the idea of running his fingers through those silky hairs of Sherlock, brushing his thumb over Sherlock’s lips while he would have the tall boy under his body has made his cock leak with more precome. Once feeling he’s going to lose it soon, John kicked the sheets out of his way and stripped down his pants so it’d get more comfortable.

“ _Sherlock_ …“ John could see Sherlock’s face in front of his eyes, his naked body, or at least what he thought his naked body would look like. He could feel thrusting into him, the hot and tightness around his cock as he pushed inside, their sweating bodies stuck together, but it’s been still just John’s imagination, it has been just a ghost of what could be if John wasn’t such scared of letting his feelings to be shown.

“ _Sherlock, oh, fuck, I need you so much, Sherlock ,Sherl-_ “ John had to grab the nearest pillow and nestle it against his mouth so his screams and moans would be muttered and no one would burst into his room.

Biting on the fabric, he came after giving himself just two more strokes, messing up not only his own thighs but all the sheets and duvets around him.

John thought of getting up and clean himself, but an unexpected buzz almost made him fall from the bed instead of getting up the usual way. It was an alarm clock, letting him know it’s already 6 AM. John could hardly believe he made it throughout the whole night without sleeping.

“Shit, thank you, Sherlock.“ As grumpy as he could be, John got out of the bed, his thighs all sticky and crotch uncomfortably slabby, which made him frown out of disgust. It’s all pleasure until it’s over and you have to rinse that mess out of yourself.

 

When John made it to the classroom, after having nothing more than a small piece of toast and a sip of tea for the breakfast, he was relieved finding out that Sherlock is already there.

But then Sherlock smiled at him and John had suddenly a yen for dragging him out of the classroom and fuck his brains out in the loos. It didn’t help that Sherlock was wearing his tight purple shirt, two upper buttons undone so there was a glimpse of exposed skin showing. John’s been well aware of that he’s been staring at that spot for a little too long, while hungrily licking his lips, but he had zero control over his desire anymore.

“John? You’re okay?“ Sherlock sounded a little worried, but no surprise, since John’s been basically drooling in front of him.

“Oh yes, I am totally fine. Ex-excuse me for a moment.“

John, feeling as embarrassed as never before, crossed the room, taking a few steps till he stopped in front of Irene Adler’s desk.

“I need your help.“

Irene rather reluctantly stopped nuzzling with Janine so she can pay attention to John.

“Can’t you see I am being busy?“

“I am sorry, but I am _this_ close from making a bloody mistake and I need you to stop me.“

Clearly annoyed, but Irene couldn’t stand seeing John being as desperate as that. Besides, she knew what John is being up to.

“What you want to do is being far from a mistake, dear. Just go and tell him. Tell Sherlock you’d have him right there on your desk.“

John a little anxiously glanced at Janine but it seemed that she’s being well aware of the situation.

“You told her?“

“John, it might surprise you, but pretty much half of the school already noticed your pants are getting uncomfortable whenever you’re standing close to your best friend.“

Janine shrugged. “It’s true, probably the only one who doesn’t know is the one who should in the first place.“

“Oh come  on, Sherlock is – he’s not… I can’t tell him, it would ruin our friendship.“

“It would?“ Irene asked. “Why? You think he doesn’t feel the same?“

“Irene-“

“Don’t ‘Irene‘ on me,“ the girl hissed, losing her patience. “I’ve never met such a helpless person like you. Why are you being so stubborn? What are you so scared of?“

John took a look around before he answered under his breath, so Sherlock has no chance hearing him. “That’s not it. I am not being scared because of that. Well, fine, not _just_ because of that at least. You know, what would people think? What would they say if I started to date a boy all of a sudden?“

“This is it? I can’t believe this! You see the two of us having any problem walking down the hallway? Do you think me and Janine give a flying crap about what all those kids have to say?“

“That’s different,“ John objected.

“Seriously?“

“Yeah, people aren’t freaking out that much about lesbians.“

Irene’s brows raised so high it looked a little comically. “Because horny immature boys think of two girls kissing each other as hot?“

John nodded. “Yeah, obviously.“

“Oh, give me a break.“ Irene got up from her chair and circled around the desk.

“You think no one around here think of us as a gross?“ her voice was a mere whisper. “They’re just keeping their mouths full of shit shut because they know I’d break them a half if they would dare to insult me or my girlfriend. I don’t care about them and their stupid opinions. And you shouldn’t too.“

John opened his mouth a few times, but the words he wanted to say were left unspoken.

“John, I can’t tell Sherlock I love him instead of you.“ Irene calmed down a bit. She sounded much more supportive and understanding than just a few seconds ago. “Only way I can help you is to open your damn eyes. Forget about the world for God’s sake, forget about the kids, it’s just the two of you, that’s what really matters. Nothing will be ruined, I can promise you that. You two belong together in every single way.“

“She’s right,“ Janine nodded, rewarded with a soft smile from Irene afterwards.

“Well thank you. It didn’t help a bit, but I appreciate you trying to ease my mind. Sorry for disturbing.“ John quickly turned around, shuffling back to his desk.

“He won’t tell him, will he?“ Janine sighed once Irene sat back next to her.

“It will kill him if he won’t. Did you notice he’s been drinking like an old chap while Sherlock wasn’t around?“

“It must be terrible, denying your own feelings because you’re so frightened. I wouldn’t be able to live with myself if I couldn’t be with you just because of a sheer cowardice.“

There was no retort coming for a while. Irene put her hand on Janine’s thigh, gently caressing the soft skin below the skirt.

“You really are a brave girl.“

Janine delivered her girlfriend a sheepish smile as she covered her hand with her own.

“But you can’t blame John, dearie. He’s kind of a right after all. It must be really difficult for him to accept his own identity, how we can expect for him to be ready to tell the whole world?“

 

* * *

 

 

“Everything’s okay?“ Sherlock asked once John was back at their desk.

“Yes, of course.“

“Ehm…That party at your house tonight-“

“P-party?“

“Yeah, you invited me, Lestrade, Molly and few other people to get…drunk, as you phrased it, since your parents won’t be over. You’ve forgot about it?“

The truth was, yes, John completely forgot about that he arranged something like that, but sooner he was able to even consider aborting it, it was suddenly evening and his friends were already standing in his anteroom and more kids were coming.

“Sally? Anderson? Who  the hell invited you two?“

“Oh sorry, they wanted to come, is that much of a problem?“ Greg explained, leaving his coat on a rack.

John would say yes, but he didn’t care at all, for as long as they wouldn’t cause troubles. “Free drinks are a bit alluring, right?“

“Wherever there’s an alcohol, Philip Anderson there’s too,“ Anderson replied, already opening a bottle of beer.

“Indeed. I just don’t understand, you know– last time we spoke, pretty long ago actually, you seemed to made it clear you don’t want to be hanging out with me since I befriended Sherlock.“ John leaned against the door frame, hands in his pockets.

Space offered no answer, so John just beckoned towards the door with a deep sigh escaping his throat.

“Sitting room’s that way – there’s enough food and drinks for everyone, if you don’t like the music, choose whatever pleases you and… please, I beg of you, if you are about to throw up, don’t do it on the carpet, my parents would kill me. Drink only as much as you can take.“

All the kids laughed, making their way into the other room, except for the boy standing behind John.

“What’s wrong, Sherlock?“

“You know I don’t drink, John.“

“Oh, I know this is not a tea you love so much, but-“

“It’s about a bloody time you taste the heaven,“ Anderson cut them as he passed by and handed Sherlock a bottle of beer.

“Ignore him, Sherlock,“ John mumbled, shifting closer to his friend. “You know what? If you don’t want to, you don’t have to take a single sip, okay?“

Sherlock smiled, half-relieved, half-because John’s been smiling at him too. He followed him to the sitting room where they chatted for a while, but then John had to hurry to prevent Anderson from completely emptying out his father’s bar and Sherlock was left alone. Up until Greg didn’t show up.

“Having fun?“

“I guess I am not a party type,“ Sherlock replied, staring down at the still closed bottle in his hands.

“Well, better you stay sober. I am not sure about John though. Considering he’s been drinking like mad while you’ve been gone…“

“What?“ Sherlock turned so fast that the bottle he’s been holding almost slipped out of his hand.

“You don’t know?“ Greg’s brows narrowed. “We thought it’s going to kill him soon. Pretty unusual behaviour for an eighteen years old boy, if you ask me.“

“He’s never been drinking that much before.“

“Yeah, I know. I am being worried a little. I thought he turned completely crazy when he started dating Mary. Thank God he broke up with her. I am glad it lasted for just two weeks, she would hurt him even more.“

Sherlock was so curious and worried that he barely paid attention to any sentence which did not contain the word ‘John’.

“Lestrade, tell me more, why did he drink that much? And why after I left? I don’t understand.“

“Guess it runs in the veins,“ Greg sighed, taking one more sip. “You know, family issues. John felt alone while you’ve been on holidays during the summer so the first think he thought of doing was drinking. He probably thinks that alcohol is an answer to misery, it helps him to forget the sadness, but... Christ, he should know better, it almost killed his sister, made a monster of his father.“

“His sister?“

“Harry. Oh come on, you don’t know John’s got a sister? I thought you know everything, especially about him.“

“Well… John does not like to talk about his family,“ Sherlock replied, his voice cracking as he glared at  John who’s been still trying to reason with Anderson at the other side of the room. Thankfully, the music’s been so loud he had no chance hearing them.

“He never told me about his sister, not least she’s an alcoholic.“

“He rarely talks about it, true. Nor his biological parents. His mother is dead and his father- God, I shouldn’t be telling you.“

Sherlock was aware of that this wasn’t quite fair, but in the same time, he felt a little hurt. John claimed they were best friends, yet, Greg knew apparently more about him than Sherlock.

“Tell me, please. Why wouldn’t John want me to know such important things? Once I showed him the family tree I made, it contained about ten generations of Holmes’ family, roots reaching back to the nineteenth century. And I am clueless when it comes to the family that’s closest to him. Please, Lestrade, before he comes back.“

Greg took a deep breath, evidently not wanting to spoil everything, but he gave up eventually.

“He’d kick me out of the house if he knew I am telling you this. He wouldn’t want us to pity him. You know, John’s mother died when he and his sister were a lot younger. John was about fourteen and his sister - I think she was already nineteen or so. Their father was an alcoholic and took no responsibility taking care of them, so Harry had to. She was truly kind and a loving sibling. But… you know, there was this thing – she wasn’t quite, well, she isn’t straight. So this time, she had a girlfriend over and their father came sooner from the pub she thought he would. He was terribly drunk and you can imagine, the kind of a man... quite against the people who are different.“

“Homophobe.“

“Yeah, that. He yelled at his own daughter, called her sick, threw few things at her and her girlfriend, he _raged_. And then, since he was buzzed and unfortunately, the whole fight happened in the kitchen, he took a knife from the counter and well – he threatened her, his own daughter, just because she was queer, Sherlock. If John didn’t come in right time, God knows what would happen. He threw himself in between his sister and father, suffering a cut. Mr. Watson was waving with that knife in his hand and he attacked, hitting John instead of who he was aiming at. John’s still got a scar, left shoulder.“

Greg stopped talking once noticing that Sherlock’s eyes are being glassy.

“Are you okay?“ He took a sip of his drink, his throat dry.

“Please, continue,“ Sherlock sniffed.

“Well, they’ve survived of course, managed to run away, even though they had no place to go. Harry took her brother to hospital, but once they cured him, they had to leave. Harry was desperate, her girlfriend broke up with her, instead of helping her, she was alone with her younger brother, they were starving and had to sleep on the street for a few days. John refused to leave her, but Harry insisted he will better be off without her. So he ended up in an orphan house and his sister was left on the street and… she got into a bad company and well, couldn’t help but reaching for an alcohol, even though she knew very well that was the exact reason what destroyed their family. She had no hope left.“

Sherlock was on the verge of crying, but he needed to know the whole truth. “How is she now?“

“Well, John says she’s off the booze now, but I doubt it,“ Greg sighed. “Now you know why I am being so worried about John, I don’t want him to end up like his sister and father. While you two are together it’s all fine, but once you are separated, he’s going crazy, I don’t think there was a week he went without getting drunk.“

Sherlock had to sit down in the arm chair, he felt he’s getting weak in his knees.

“I had no idea he’s been missing me so much.“

“Yeah, we’ve been surprised too. He must've been unbelievably lonely, otherwise I don't get why he would started dating that bit –“ Greg rather took a sip of beer because John’s been already back.

“Gossiping?“

“Kind of… what’s wrong with Anderson?“

“Nah, the usual. But I hope you’re two are enjoying it here.“ John’s been grinning, but that was exactly what made Sherlock’s heart ache. His best friend’s been hiding some terrifying secrets and Sherlock had no idea why he never told about any of them.

Greg sensed that Sherlock is about to ask him, so he rather changed the subject.“ You’ve tried it yet?“ He pointed at the bottle in Sherlock’s hand.

“No… you know… I thought parties are supposed to be fun, but I am anything but entertained.“

John glanced first at Greg with a question in his eyes, but there was no explanation coming so he squat down in front of Sherlock.

“What happened?“

“Nothing, I just…“ Sherlock knew he doesn’t want to spoil everything, but he had no time to think of a good way to withdraw now. Unless… there was this bottle he’s been cherishing in his hands since Anderson gave it to him. Sherlock wavered for only a second before he pushed of the lid off the bottle and took one experimental sip. He frowned right after, hearing how John and Greg are chuckling, but not seeing, because he had his eyes shut tight.

“So?“

“Not that bad.“ Sherlock lied of course, he’d rather throw it all up at the moment.

“I told you, you don’t have to if you don’t want to,“ John sniggered once he raised up.

“No, no, it’s okay, I just have to get used to it.“

He was about to get up from the chair when Irene, already pretty drunk as far as he could tell, arrived, her hands all over Janine.

“Hello, boys.“

“This is how a lady acts?“ John asked, backing a little as Irene wasn’t quite aware of her surroundings. She tried to lean against him, but Janine caught her before she’d fall on the floor.

“I am not a lady, John. I am- oh, nevermind. Why don’t we go and play something, hmmm?“

“Play?“

“Spin the bottle perhaps?“

“Spin the bottle? I am not going to kiss any of you,“ John sulked.

Irene rolled her eyes. “We’re not going to be kissing each other. We’re going to play truth or dare,“ she smirked as her eyes flicked from John to Sherlock and then back to John.

“I don’t think that’s the best idea, Irene.“

“Since when are you being such a dreep, John? Come on, take the bottle.“

 

They’ve been seated in a circle, empty beer bottle lying in the middle between them.

“So, who’s going to start?“ Sally asked, arms crossed on her chest.

“Irene,“ John shrugged. “It’s been _her_ idea after all.“

“Stop being so bitter, Watson.“ Irene leaned forward and spun the bottle so fast it took it almost half a minute till it finally stopped. Pointing at Molly, who’s been sitting in between Irene and Greg.

“Oh my God, just don’t make me do anything embarrassing, please,“ she squeaked, shifting closer to Greg.

“That’s up to you, lovely, truth or dare?“

Molly couldn’t even look the brunette in the eyes, she’s been slouching next to her boyfriend like a little mouse.

“Truth.“

“I thought so… So, Molly, tell us, would you have a problem kissing a girl?“

Janine frowned as Irene waggled here eyebrows at Molly, but her girlfriend made it clear she’s just joking around.

“Don’t worry love, it’s just a question. Completely innocent, you know these lips belong to no one but you.“ It was definitely an alcohol that made Irene shamelessly lean forward and stick her tongue in between Janine’s parted lips, but John was sure she wouldn’t have a problem do it while completely sober.

“Y-yes,“ Molly whispered, Irene barely paying attention to her.

“Hm, sorry?“

“But I am completely okay with you and the… people like you. I just find the idea… just no.“

“Really?“ Greg scowled, making rather a displeased expression.

“Seems like no threesome for you, mate,“ Anderson giggled, opening about the third bottle of whatever alcohol he brought with himself.

“At least not with a girl,“ Irene teased further.

“Will you stop… Molly, please, just spin the damn bottle.“

Molly merrily did as her boyfriend requested. When it stopped spinning, the bottle was left pointing at Sherlock this time. Molly immediately blushed, hiding her face in her hands.

“Truth or dare, Sherlock?“ She sounded like a purring cat, but Sherlock’s been oblivious towards the coyness.

“Truth.“

Everyone ignored Irene’s theatrical sigh of disappointment, everyone except for John who really quickly shushed her so Molly could ask her question.

“Sherlock, tell us… about your... first kiss?“

Sherlock felt how his cheeks are turning red. It would be less embarrassing if there was something to talk about in the first place.

“There’s really not much to say.“

“You mean you never-“

“No.“

“No one?“

“Is that hard to comprehend?“

“You are eighteen,“ Sally uttered.

“Leave him alone, okay? He answered Molly’s question, what’s the point? Spin the bottle, Sherlock.“

But Sally didn’t say her last word. “John, you’re acting like a protective bulldog around him.“

“None of your business… Sherlock, spin the fucking bottle.“

Although a bit stunned, Sherlock did what he was supposed to do. It was now Anderson who was being a victim of the pointing bottle. He couldn’t care less though, Sherlock didn’t even ask the question, Anderson was already shouting “dare!“

Knowing Sherlock would have a hard time coming up with something embarrassing enough for Anderson, John grabbed his arm and pulled him closer, whispering into his ear what he should make him to do. Sherlock could barely concentrate though, his mind blacked out once John’s voice echoed right in his ear.

“Are you sure, John? Isn’t that-“

“Sherlock, trust me.“ Their faces were literally an inch apart once Sherlock turned to John and couldn’t help but glare at his lips.

“Hey, you two doves, are we still playing or you want to get a room?“

John immediately jerked back, bashfully glancing at his feet. Sherlock straightened up himself and with quite a serious face he looked right at Anderson.

“Anderson, I dare you to dance around the room like a monkey while singing the song-“ Sherlock glanced at John, both bursting into a laugh.

“I am sexy and I know it,“ John said instead of Sherlock who’s been already crying out of laughing so much.

“Oh, you think I don’t have balls to do this?“ Anderson raised up from the floor, he wobbled around the room for a while, but then he really did start jumping all around, imitating monkey while unashamedly out of the tune singing the song Sherlock ordered him to. John and Sherlock have been almost rolling on the floor already and they couldn’t stop even after Anderson sat back down.

“Laugh while you can, lads, it’s my turn.“ Whether it was a coincidence or not, once Anderson spun the bottle, it almost immediately stopped, pointing at John.

“Oh, great.“

“I told you, truth or dare?“

“Truth.“

“Damn loser, but as you wish -when is the last time you shagged?“

John had every reason to punch Anderson right in his smug face, but he rather decided to answer the question, however embarrassing that was.

“Well, fine… since that incident with Mary never happened - thank God, actually – it’s been… about a year or so. Maybe more, who knows.“

“A year?!“ Anderson almost spilled his drink all over himself. “You must be running out of tissues.“

“Very funny.“ John tried to fight an urge to look at Sherlock, but he felt that his friend is pinning his gaze upon him. When he caught his eyes, he realised that Sherlock is most likely counting months in his mind. John had no one since they became friends and Sherlock was aware of that. But he probably wasn’t aware of _why_ is it like that.

“Yeah, so… there. But you know what? I am not ashamed of this actually. Shagging like a rabbit isn’t my cup of coffee.“

“So you never had a one-night stand?“

“No, I find that disgusting, nothing for me. None of you have an idea how horrible I’ve been feeling once Mary told me we…argh, I am banning this subject.“

“So you’ve been dating but no sex?“ Sally chuckled.

John growled. “You’re asking me unnecessary questions, and besides you are not even allowed to, since it’s not your turn, but fine – no, I refused to sleep with Mary even though I’ve been fooled to think we actually did sleep together.“

 

Few turns have passed, almost everyone, except for John and Sherlock, has been already drunk and it’s been Irene’s turn to spin the bottle. It was left pointing at John again.

“This is not fair,“ John whined.

“Don’t blame me,“ Irene chuckled. That malicious smile hanging upon the girl’s face has been enough for John to know she’s being up to no good.

“You know you can’t pick a truth two times in a row, right?“

John grunted. “How convenient.“ 

Irene’s eyes darted over Sherlock, who had no idea what are her intentions until she opened her mouth.

“John, I dare you to… kiss Sherlock.“

John practically raged even before Irene finished her sentence. “Jesus, Irene, you said _no kissing_.“

“John, remember the _rules_.“

“But I _can’t_ kiss Sherlock.“

“I wouldn’t mind.“

Everyone’s turned to Sherlock who quickly clasped his palm over his mouth once realising he said that out loud. John, who’s been sitting right next to him, could only try to process what he just heard.

“Sherlock-“

“Don’t tell me you’re going to ruin the fun now, John,“ Irene grinned.

John didn’t care if he’s going to ruin anything, he didn’t want to kiss Sherlock like this. Certainly not in front of so many people and under such circumstances. But then again, Sherlock said he wouldn’t mind, maybe just because of that little alcohol in his blood, but he said it and it couldn’t be taken back. John was suddenly not only angry with Irene for what she’s done, but also with himself. What if Sherlock is really feeling something towards him? No, that was not possible, and what’s more, Sherlock’s still being a boy, John Watson can’t be kissing a boy.

Sherlock’s been sitting on his heels, glaring at John and it’s been a little like they were communicating without using any words. For the first time they felt something they’ve been blind towards so far, but both of them have been simultaneously denying it so hard they basically stopped believing in it.

“I am sorry, John.“

“Don’t be,“ John shook his head, taking a huff of breath. He knew Sherlock never kissed anyone before and he probably didn’t want his first kiss to be arranged like this either. But there’s been something odd and completely new in his eyes, something John has never seen there before. Was it need? Did Sherlock really want to be kissed by John? There was only one way to find out, but John decided to avoid making this situation awkward for both of them.

When he raised up a bit, Sherlock actually stopped breathing for a second. It was all back to normal, at least Sherlock wished it would be, once John tilted his head to a side, slowly planting the most chaste kiss on his crimson flushed cheek. Both of them closed their eyes, their breaths shaky and stomachs flipping. Once John pulled back, there was a shy smile on his face, but eyes pinned down on the floor, avoiding Sherlock’s.

“ _That_ … was cheating,“ Irene complained.

“I’ve done what you’ve told me,“ John cleared his throat. “I kissed Sherlock.“

“But not on his lips, cheek doesn’t count.“

“Oh well, then perhaps next time, be more specific.“

 

They’ve been playing for a while, now Sherlock the one spinning the bottle. He’s been still a little bewildered since John kissed him, even though it was just his cheek, so he didn’t even realise the bottle’s already laying still, pointing at John.

“Oh... John. I am- well, supposed to ask you, ehm - truth or-“

“Dare,“ John smiled, hoping for that Sherlock won’t make him to do anything beyond just a little embarrassing. But after Sherlock spoke, he wished he’d rather ask for the truth.

“John… I dare you to… show me your scar.“

“My-my scar?“

“The one on your left shoulder.“

“Who told you?“ John’s voice was breathless and full of anxiety. But he didn’t wait for an answer, he just glared at Greg, sniffing in that sort of an angry way.

“John, please, I want to see.“

“But-“

“John, do it,“ Irene insisted.

John hopelessly sighed out, he thought that Sherlock will never have to hear the story behind his little secret. He slowly unbuttoned his shirt, letting it fall from his left shoulder, exposing a scarred spot on his body.

“John-“ Sherlock’s hand trembled in the air, twitching to get in touch with John’s skin.

“Isn’t it someone else’s turn already?“ John quickly pulled up his shirt back up to button it. There were seven pairs of eyes glaring at him, which made him feel surprisingly uneasy, considering the situation he found himself in.

“I am sorry. “ Sherlock whispered, leaving John even more bemused.

There’s been nothing but flatling silence to be heard in the room. John shut his eyes tight before he could open his mouth and speak again. He swallowed hard, his fingers were shaking a little as he tried to do the last button on his shirt.

“It’s fine.“

John reached for the bottle and spun it without another word. The bottle stopped, pointing at himself again which made John reasonably angry and frustrated.

“Someone fucking enchanted that bloody bottle. Fine, this must be a sign, I don’t mean to sound rude, but the party is over.

“But I am not even drunk yet,“ Anderson scowled, barely able to keep his eyes open.

“You _are_ , trust me.“ John jumped up from the floor, everyone doing the same but not without displeased grunting.

 

Once they were all gone, only left there were John and Sherlock who refused to leave without helping John tidying up all the mess.

“My parents would kill me if they’d find the house like this in the morning,“ John sighed, picking up the empty bottles from the floor.

“I am glad everyone’s been able to left by their own feet. Thank you for staying by the way.“

“What are friends for?“ Sherlock chuckled but then his smile turned upside down. “John, I am sorry for that-“

“Don’t be stupid, the point of this game is to get embarrassed.“

“But Lestrade told me how it happened and-“

“Oh God.“

“No, I was being an idiot for daring you to do such a thing. What you’ve been through- that’s a horrible experience and I-I-“ Sherlock’s words faded into nothingness as John closed the distance between them, pressing their chests together.

“It’s okay, Sherlock.“

“Then why you never told me?“

“Because I want it to stay buried in my past. Past I don’t want to be reminded of. Yeah, it changed my life, turned it upside down, and I hate my father for everything he’s done. He made a depressed mess of me, Sherlock, made an alcoholic of my sister… I feel awful for not being able to help her.“

“It’s not your fault.“ Sherlock didn’t hesitate pulling John into his arms, then gently caressing his back in small circles.

“You’re not responsible for those vicious acts your father’s done. “

John sobbed. “But Sherlock, because of him I can’t get out of this cage I am being kept in. I am so scared, I’ve seen what people are capable of when they are driven with hatred towards even the smallest differences. He almost killed Harry because she is different, you understand? I hate him so much, Sherlock, I fucking despise him.“

“Don’t be scared, John, you don’t have to be. But you should’ve told me, you know I am here for you.“

“I know you are. And it means so much, you mean so much for me, I would have nothing without you, Sherlock.“

John pulled back a little, their faces so close they’ve been exchanging breaths but neither of them took that last step.

“We should clean this mess, hm?“ Sherlock disrupted the atmosphere so fast John didn’t even have a chance to let the fear of locking their lips vanish.

“Oh, sure, right,“ he cleared his throat. “Next time we’re making a party in _your_ house though.“

Sherlock let go of him, giggling. “Mycroft would be resentful… I like the idea.“

 

 

 


	7. Chapter 7

Sherlock’s been sitting at his desk, studying as usual, even though it’s been already too late for being awake, not least for trying to study biology. His head was falling down, although he tried to prop himself and keep reading. Sherlock would probably fall asleep if it wasn’t for that sudden noise that put him back into reality again.

It was coming from behind the window, that was for certain, but Sherlock had no idea what to make out of it. A little abashedly, he shuffled towards the source of those strange sounds, but since he couldn’t see anything through the glass, he opened the window and leaned out.

Once seeing who is standing down on the lawn, tall boy almost fell over the parapet. “John?! What are you doing here for God’s sakes?“

“I couldn’t make it sooner, so here I am now,“ John called back. Sherlock could see only a glimpse of John’s face  in the dark of the night, but he was sure he’s grinning.

“You- you were throwing pebbles at my window?“ Sherlock’s brow rose as he realised it. “That’s like a goddamn trope from a cheapest romantic movie, John.“

Considering the reason he was there in the first place, this remark sent cold shivers down John’s spine even though it’s been quite a warm autumn evening. He had to clear his throat before he could respond.

“Well, since it’s rather late I thought that ringing at your front door would be a bit odd.“

“So this is not odd?“

“Just let me in.“

“I can’t – in? How in?“

“Step back, I am going up.“

Although a little besotted, Sherlock did as he was requested. He heard various noises coming from behind the window, most of them he could identify only as John climbing his way up the wall. And he wasn’t wrong, John’s head soon appeared behind the frame, his torso and limbs following only a seconds after. John Watson was all of a sudden standing in the middle of Sherlock’s room.

“What the hell was that about?“

“I told you I am going up.“

“But how-“

 “Sherlock, I am an athlete... sort of. Climbing a wall is not a problem for me. Besides, there’s a  pipe out there, it came quite in handy.“ John chuckled.

“Okay, fine, but what do you have that backpack for?“ Sherlock squinted, observing John from the head to toes.

“Oh yeah, sure-“ John let the rucksack fell from his shoulders before he unzipped it and pulled out a few bottles.

“What the hell, John?“

John smirked as he waved the bottle in front of Sherlock’s eyes. “Didn’t we agree on making a party at your place next time?“

“We didn’t agree on anything, not least a party.“ Sherlock sulked.

“Well, technically, it won’t be a party, you know...just the two of us, Sherlock,“ John tittered.

“John, I am sorry, but I’d rather hear an explanation for why did you just jumped through my bedroom’s window and without a word picked an alcohol from the bag you’ve been carrying all the way while climbing up the wall.“

“When you put it this way, it really does sound odd.“

“John, I don't know what you've been thinking, you know I hate alcohol,“ Sherlock sighed, heading back to his desk. “I guess you’ve been imitating Tarzan for nothing.“

“Come on, Sherlock, I just want to have fun with you.“ It was a carefully prepared lie. The real reason behind all this was that John finally decided to tell Sherlock what does he feel towards him and since he realised that taking a few shots would probably help him, he couldn’t come just by himself. It was just a crazy idea John came up with the moment Sherlock left his place the day before, after the party.

“We managed to have fun without an alcohol till now,“ Sherlock snorted, closing his books and tossing them into his backpack.

“You didn’t have fun yesterday?“

Sherlock froze mid-action, turning back towards John.

“That’s not it. I just don’t understand what are you up to, that’s all. I’ve been texting you earlier, you didn’t respond.“ John couldn’t overhear that disappointment in Sherlock’s voice.

“Sorry, I’ve been busy.“

Truth has been that John’s been ignoring Sherlock’s messages on purpose, because he was sure that if he’d write him back, he would lose all the courage he have gathered to go to Sherlock’s place as he planned. He didn’t want to step back, not this time, not anymore.

“Sherlock, you won’t kick me out now, will you?“

“Of course I won’t,“ Sherlock shook his head. “But I am not getting drunk with you either.“

“Guh, Sherlock, come on.“ It didn’t matter how hard was John begging, Sherlock was being as stubborn as a mule.

“Okay, fine,“ John gasped, pouting his lips. “Nevermind then, let me ask you something at least.“

Sherlock sighed. “Fine, go on.“

John’s fist clenched, he was clearly struggling with himself. He wasn’t even sure what he is about to ask Sherlock because he had so much to tell him, so he started off with something that has been bothering him since after the previous day’s events.

“Sherlock... when we’ve been playing that stupid game and Irene ordered me to kiss… to kiss you...“

Sherlock’s brows furrowed. “That’s what I call a change of subject.“

“Wait, let me finish this... you said you wouldn’t mind.“

“Oh, but I’ve already apologisied… I know you probably felt pretty uncomfortable once you were faced with such a… challenge. And I just made it worse. I am actually surprised you kissed me, even if it was just a cheek.“

“The point is that I didn’t mind either, Sherlock,“ John smiled wryly, Sherlock doing the same, but apparently not comprehending what were John’s intentions when he asked that question.

“I’ve probably sort of came out, no?“ Sherlock chuckled, but in fact, he felt terribly anxious and scared of what will come. He didn’t even realised that saying such a thing out loud would mean all the kids in the room will realise he’s not straight.

“I thought you said they already know, hm?“

Sherlock shrugged. “Most of them, yes, probably. But I don’t like that Anderson guy. What if they’ll start bullying me all over again, John? It took you so much effort and time to persuade them to not and now I’ve ruined it because I can’t bite my tongue when I am supposed to. Ugh, I just hate alcohol, it all happened all because I took a sip of that damn liquid.“

Seeing Sherlock getting so adorably angry made John giggle. “Don’t worry, Sherlock, Anderson’s been stoned as hell, he barely remembers his own name since yesterday’s evening. I don’t actually think that you gave too much away and if yes, no one caught on. Maybe they know, maybe not, maybe they do not even care and better that way. Don’t think about it anymore, just… drink with me _now_ , please, there is no one around this time.“

Sherlock didn’t stop frowning even after John made puppy eyes at him.

“I still don’t understand it. Why are kids so, so... I don‘t know, excited about getting drunk? Especially you.“

John sighed as he slumped down on Sherlock’s bed. “You know some people do it for fun, some just want to forget the things that are troubling them and the others drink so they... lose inhibitions.“ John’s head quickly bowed down as he muttered the last words.

“Why would you want to lose inhibitions?“ Sherlock sulked. No retort was coming so he sat down next to his friend, glaring dead seriously into his eyes.

“John, you should really consider turning it down a notch. Greg told me about how much you’ve been drinking while... well, while I wasn’t around.“

“Greg told you?“ John snorted. “Is there anything Greg _didn’t_ tell you, hm?“

Sherlock just shrugged. “He’s being worried. And for a good reason. John, please, tell me, if there is anything that-“

“Sherlock, I want to live at its fullest,“ John cut him, surprising himself how fast he could come up with such a believable, yet stupid lie. “I just want to _live_ , you understand?“

“Alcohol won’t help you achieve that, John.“

“Then what will?“

“I don’t know… being with the people you love, playing your favourite sports, watching a crappy telly, anything other but the stuff you are getting into.“

John felt the knot tying up in his stomach. He was sure that this is the last chance to tell Sherlock how does he feel, but he was also sure he won’t be able to do it while being completely sober.

“Fine, I’ll stop. Starting from tomorrow though. Sherlock, I swear  I will try to control myself from tomorrow on, but let me have this last time. Drink with me today and I promise I won’t touch a bottle, nor a glass, I won’t even think about getting drunk, deal?“

Sherlock hesitated for a moment, wondering what another argument he could come up with. He knew he’ll probably going to regret saying what he was about to, but he was also sure that it is the only way to prevent John from gamble with his health like that.

“John, half of your family paid for that they let an alcohol crossed their paths. I don’t want you to end up the same.“

“Sherlock, stop. _I_ can control myself.“

“Really, you can control yourself? Really? So that’s why you wasn’t even sure if you slept with Mary or not, last time you get so drunk?“

“Sherlock, that was just once, I was alone and desperate, you were gone and – _please_ , Sherlock, just this once.“

There was no reply coming, silence fell into the space until Sherlock took a deep breath and John knew that he's just surrendered.

“Fine then, fine... I take you for your word. But we won’t be drinking from these… horrible bottles. It’s disgusting. Wait here, I’ll bring glasses.“

John opened his mouth to protest, it was ridiculous after all, but Sherlock agreed with him and that was all that mattered. It was a now or never moment, John couldn’t care less about anything else.

Sherlock was back few minutes later, John already had the bottles opened.

“What took you so long?“

“Mycroft.“ Sherlock rolled his eyes. “He saw me running up the staircase and demanded to know why am I bringing two glasses to my room.“

“What did you say?“

“For an experiment of course,“ Sherlock sighed, handing John his glass.

 

 

* * *

 

 

They’ve lost the track of time, both of them terribly drank already, not paying attention whether it is still night or they’ve been drinking for hours straight without noticing. Leaning against the cold wall, half-lying, half-sitting, spread on Sherlock’s bed, neither of them knew what are they even talking about anymore.

“How did we end up like this?“ John took a sip, his eyes barely able to stay open.

“You pinched a few bottles and sneaked into my house.“

“Oh, sure... and why?“

“Because you broke up with your girlfriend and you wanted to get buzzed with your best mate?“

“Right, I remember. Wait, no, that’s not it, that happened like… two months ago, Sherlock.“

“Oh, yeah, sure. What was her name again?“

“She cheated on me, Sherlock, besides other things... her name is not important.“

“Then you don’t have to be concerned about her I s’ppose.“

“That I really don't,“ John sighed out, taking another sip.

“Wait, you should stop.“ Sherlock knew it was useless to suggest such a thing. He already tried to stop his best friend a few times before, each time failing horribly.

“Few more shots won’t kill anyone.“ John was already pouring himself another, but Sherlock grabbed his hand and took the glass away.

“Ehm, you should go,“ he uttered, turning a little red when they fingers brushed.

“Well, even if I wanted, I am not sure if I could leave the same way I came in and I definitely don’t want to bump to your parents like this, so... I’ll probably have to stay here for tonight.“

Sherlock opened his mouth to retort, but the words got stuck in his throat. John was right, if Sherlock's parents would find out their son's best friend climbed up to his room through the window just for the purpose of getting drank, they would be anything but pleased seeing him wobbling around the house. Even though Sherlock's mother basically treated John as her own son.

“Don’t worry, Sherlock, I’ve slept on the floor so many times I’ve lost count.“

“Well… there’s still a bed.“ Sherlock had zero idea where did that come from. He just offered his best friend to share that small bed with him. That bed on which they would have to lie so close their bodies would be crammed full on each other.

“Not the brightest idea,“ John just sniggered, even though his heart skipped a beat upon that remark. “Considering the state I am in, I don’t count on that I wouldn‘t do anything... inappropriate.“ He waggled his eyebrows at Sherlock, taking his glass back from him.

Sherlock wanted to reply at first, but his mouth just disappeared behind the glass without uttering a word.

“But if you really wouldn’t mind sharing a bed with me-“ John licked his lips after swallowing a bit of a liquor. He put the glass on the nightstand and then glared at Sherlock, corner of his mouth turning up. John knew that Sherlock was probably just too drunk to think properly, because he would never offer such a thing otherwise. John's depressed feelings were apparently clouding his mind though, creating false assumptions. He was so prepared to tell Sherlock about his feelings, he was right there, available, so close but yet still so far, because John in fact wasn’t even sure if Sherlock would really want it.

“Why-why would I? It’s not that we’d end up... having - you know.“

“That sounds like you’d be pretty disappointed if it doesn’t happen.“ Voice in John's head was telling him to not fuck with Sherlock like this, not this time, but he was too muddled and a bit too prepared to finally take that step he’s been reluctant to for so long. Sort of a naughty grin was hanging upon his face as he crossed his arms on his chest. His eyes were gliding all around his friend‘s languid body lazily sprawled on the bed.

“John, you know that I am-“ Sherlock bit his tongue, avoiding John’s glance.

It was just a game, or so Sherlock thought. John's been just playing with him, teasing and cracking dirty jokes as usual. But something was different nonetheless. Sherlock wasn’t feeling uncomfortable, John has been ocassionally doing such things to him for a long, long time, almost from the very first moment they've became friends. What he felt was fear. Fear of losing his best friend if he’d accidentally say something that would chase him away. Tragic, John has been fearing the same. At this point, Sherlock still hadn't any idea that John does not want to just joke about them having sex. Such a thing was inconceivable for him anyway.

“Sherlock?“

“Hm?“

“You okay?“

“Me? Sure, I am fine. Just fine.“

“Did I say something that-“

“God no, no. I guess I just had too much of this,“ he frowned at the glass in his hand.

“Me too... I guess.“

“John Watson admits he’s had enough?“ Sherlock sniggered, mock-seriously, trying to ignore his heart was painfully shattering for some reason.

No reply coming. John theatrically sighed out, reaching for the glass again, but decide to not pick it up in the end.

“It’s not that actually,“ he cleared his throat. “I am just getting afraid I might say something tonight I am going to regret in the morning. Or right after. Or that I won’t say it and will regret it anyway.“

Sherlock refused to admit he’s feeling exactly the same. What actually surprised him was that John was being uneasy as much as him. “I know you. You can’t catch me off guard,“ he objected, but he suddenly wasn’t quite convinced it’s all true.

“Are you sure?“

“Well, sure. Anything you’d might say would be either because of the alcohol or you‘d just want to mess with me as usual.“

John bit his lip before replying. He was toying with the idea of finally telling Sherlock about his feelings for quite a time, but never it was a better opportunity than now. But there was too much at stake. Losing Sherlock as a friend would definitely be the worst thing that could hapen to John Watson and he knew what kind of a man Sherlock is after all. John had no idea what to expect if Sherlock would learn the truth, but not telling him was probably the worse kind of a scenario.

“So nothing I’d say would make you... I don’t know, throw me out of the window?“ John snorted, his stomach turning because he still wasn’t quite sure this is the best idea.

Sherlock shook his head, attempting to chuckle but his answer was rather serious. “Absolutely no.“

John took a deep breath, his eyes avoiding Sherlock at all cost.

“Even if I said I’d have you right here on this bed?“ It wasn’t exactly like he wanted to phrase it, actually, it was pretty far from it, but there it was. John just crossed the boundaries and there was no turning back. Up until now, he was good at hiding the fact that Sherlock as a man was driving him crazy from the moment he saw him for the first time, so good at pretending that having Sherlock as just a friend was enough, even better in covering his desire for Sherlock and the fact his best friend is the only one on his mind, whatever he was doing with whoever he was.

Sherlock’s initial reaction was predictable, but only seconds after his eyes widened and mouth was left hanging open, he laughed a bit histerically.

“Nice one, but I can tell when you’re taking a piss. Oh, crap, we’re best friends, you’re not into me. Or men in particular.“

“Oh, so you think?“

“Come on, you’re… straight.“

“No one’s completely straight.“ It sounded a bit raw, stated as a something Sherlock should take as a fact, even though John himself would never accept such a thing before. He was sure he must've lost his mind, all he heard was Irene Adler’s voice in his head all over again – _would it matter Sherlock is a boy_? John knew it wasn’t important, not anymore, but what if Sherlock will now give up on their friendship, what if John just startled him beyond the point of return.

“We’re f- friends.“

“You said that before.“

“Because it’s true.“

“Shut up, Sherlock, please.“ John’s voice raised a little as he pinned Sherlock down with his blazing eyes.

“No, John, don’t. Whatever you want to say, I don’t want to hear it.“ As if Sherlock wasn’t pale enough, his face completely washed out into white. He was now convinced John is not joking nor just making stuff up, this conversation was apparently dead serious and it was making him cringe.

“But, Sherlock, if I am going to keep this inside fo any longer I might explode.“

“No, no, no, I knew this is going to be an awful idea, you’re drunk, people don’t know what they are talking about while d-drunk.“ Sherlock stuttered, a sign that he’s about to freak out.

“No, people speak the truth while drunk. And you need to know the truth.“

Sherlock started to breath a bit heavily almost as if he had a panic attack, but few deep breaths and soon he was back to rather normal, just refusing to look John in the eyes.

“Sherlock, I just... I want you, I _need_ you,“ John was looking as desperate as he sounded. Secret was no longer a secret, he just confessed it all.

“Are you making fun of me?“ John could swear those were tears in Sherlock’s eyes and he was shocked and horrified because it was his fault. He never saw Sherlock cry, well, not since they were friends, because he used to cry a lot before, when he was alone.

“What? No, of course not. Sherlock, please, look at me.“

But Sherlock didn’t. “Why are you doing this to me, you know what kind of a boy I am.“

“I do and I mean this. I was just so afraid of telling you, because-“

John had no words to say. It hit him out of nowhere, now it’s been all out and John had no idea how to make up for all the time he's wasted.

“Because of what? Did you make a bet with someone? Was it Irene? Lestrade? Do you have a camera hidden somewhere under your shirt to record me confessing my love fo you and then you’ll just get up laughing your arse off, because it was all just a bloody joke?“

“Sherl-“

“Are you my friend at all, John, or it’s been all just a sham?“

“What are you talking about? Jesus, Sherlock do you realise what did you just say?“ John actually thought that he must’ve misheard.

“What?“ Sherlock hissed, he was already up on his feet, fuming like an angry dog. Sudden thorought crossed John’s mind, maybe it wasn’t such a good idea getting both of them drunk so much. John has never seen Sherlock being as upset as that.

“What do you expect me to do now, John?“

“That's – that’s up to you,“ John stuttered, but this time because of sheer schock.“ I just had to say what was bugging me for so long. I am sincerely sorry if I somehow offended you, that would be the last I wanted to do.“

Sherlock was breathing hard, his eyes red and pinned upon John in disbelief, but once realising that he’s basically acting like a complete fool, he just threw himself back on the bed, desperately hiding his face behind his bee cushion.

“You didn't offend me, John,“ he sniffed. “I just don't know what to do, how should I react or if am I supposed to say something similar… “

John's lips unintentionally spread into a wide smile, heart pounding fast. “You-you do feel similar?“

Sherlock glanced back at John a little bashfully, biting on his lip.

“Yes… of course I do.“

Moment of silence. John was not sure if it's really happening or if it is all one of those beautiful dreams he used to have. Well, it wasn’t beautiful at all, it was all angry and a mess of repressed feelings, but it was happening indeed. Was this the right moment to push it even further, John had no idea, but he was unstoppable. He just broke that wall between him and Sherlock, there was no use going back, he didn’t want to anyway.

“I can’t believe this. I thought you would reject me after I’d tell you that you’re being on my mind for the whole day and night, that I can’t stop imagining kissing you and-“

“God, John.“

“No, it’s true, and I am so fucking glad I could finally get it off my chest. It’s funny, because I don’t even feel any drunk anymore and now that it’s been said… I’ve been so stupid, why I was being so scared, we are meant to be together, Sherlock. And we should be.“

Sherlock swallowed hard. “I-I-I don’t know, John. Shit, I have no idea what to say...“

Sherlock using even such a light profanity made John giggle.

“Sherlock, I would love to date you, you get that? Why do you think I had no one since I met you? Apart from... well, Mary, but that doesn't even count. From the first moment I laid my eyes on you I knew I will never be able to be with anyone else, because who I really want to be with is you. But you are so fragile and sensible deep inside, you are, even though you sometimes try to act you don’t care, even though people are too blind to see it and I was so scared of that you might freak out if I ever tell you what I feel.“  

Sherlock finally turned to face John, subtle smile crossing his face. It must’ve been a marvel that the person as amazing as John Watson could fall for him. Develope feelings, wanting to be with him, need him. But there was still something that Sherlock was aware of, something that was bothering him and he knew he has to ask John about it.

“John, that isn’t the only reason, right? You never dated a boy before and you are still scared of what would people say.“

“Woah.“ John knew that Sherlock can read a person like an open book, but he thought that he would never noticed the thing that John was trying to hide the most.

“Well, okay, you’re right. I know that I am an idiot, Sherlock. I should’ve accepted it sooner that it doesn’t matter. I should’ve told you the very first minute that I can’t get my eyes off you and that I’d really like your lips for myself.“

Sherlock flushed so hard that his face looked like painted in red. “You’d-“

“Yeah, of course,“ John replied, smiling softly.

Silence descended for a few minutes. Words weren’t needed at the moment after all, they both were just smiling at each other, genuinely, wholeheartedly, that was enough. Sherlock couldn't speak anyway, there was a lump in his throat and he was terribly failing in holding back tears.

 

 It took him a while, pulling himself together.

 “Are you really serious about all this?“ he asked, wiping his tears away. “It’s... I don’t know, it’s a bit unexpected. Not unexpected... more likely, this would never happen to me, John. First, you become my friend, you, John Watson… ehm, hot, handsome captain of the rugby team, every girl would die to get on with you and-“

“Hot and handsome, right?“ John licked his lips, his tongue left brushing the corner of his mouth.“

“You know, I-I-I mean, you... ehm...“

“Yeees?“ John raised his brows at Sherlock, smirking.

“You are, of course you are. Seeing you shirtless, for example, it does things to me. Okay, no, I am actually pretty embarassed right now.“

“Oh don’t be,“ John laughed. “You are being so damn cute, Sherlock. I am so sorry, I was being pretty dumb, denying what I feel towards you for so long.“

“John,“ Sherlock cut him, because what he was about to ask was certainly something he never thought of asking anyone and he needed John's full attention in the moment.

“I am sorry for interrupting you like this but, let's say, if you’d want to date me- oh, that sounds surreal actually- but if we were really dating, that also means you’d... want to... um, yeah as you said, kiss me, but also hav-having-“

“Sex with you?“

As if the word was taboo for him, Sherlock flushed again, taking a sharp breath.

“That yes, of course... oh John, come on, I’ve never even kissed anyone, not least-“

“Look, it’s ok, Sherlock, I know. And I don’t care, I would bear with you I would be patient and hell take me if I would force you do something you wouldn’t want. And if it came so far, if we’d end up... having sex, I’d be the gentliest lover. I would be so gentle at first, it would barely… well, hurt, if even a little.“ John grinned, shaking his head fondly. “God, Sherlock, but the things I’d want to do with you, you probably can’t even imagine.“

Not sure, if it was that damn alcohol to be blamed or the fact they both just said to each other how they really feel, Sherlock replied by saying something he’d surely not say while sober and maybe never before this evening.

“Please… tell me what you’d...do, John.“

When John realised Sherlock was being serious and apparently pretty curious what exactly they would do if they were doing it, he suddenly beamed up like a bolt. Even though there was that bit of a doubt.

“What would I do? Are you sure you want to hear this? I’ve got it pretty sorted actually, like I have to admit I’ve imagined this before,“ John tittered, shifting closer to Sherlock, never leaving his eyes, but immediately glancing away as if he said somethig he didn’t really intend to.

“Sorry, that was weird. And creepy, Jesus, sorry.“

“It’s ok, John, I am not sure if I am prepared for any of this, but what I know is that… I need it. I need you to talk about...it. And then- who knows what will happen.“

 _Who knows what will happen_. John's stomach's been flipping like he was about to vomit, but he was sure that it was just because he was so excited, almost ecstatic.

“Alright, then. Just because you asked.“ John nodded and as he talked, his voice dropped into a husky, low pitch, sort of a tempting tone in there. Sherlock felt like he was being tickled by a sound.

“So first... you won’t be surprised, first I’d tell you how gorgeous you are, because it’s damn fucking true. I might be drunk, but I can still see that sparkle in your eyes, those amazing eyes colour of which I can’t describe because it‘s apparently colour of pure magic. And, oh God, your firm, perfectly shaped, pink lips, Sherlock. You’d be eager and craving for me to touch them, Sherlock. You are now, I can see it, you’re just shy to admit it, but it’s all okay. I’d kiss you softly at first, just a tender sweet first kiss, but then I’d make you open your mouth more and we’d be kissing for real. It would be still slow but passionate and the feeling of my mouth full against your own would make you whimper. I would slip my tongue in between those beautiful fleshy lips, I would want to savour the taste of you, explore you and you would moan, Sherlock, I know you would. You’d try to bit it back but I’d run my fingers through your dark hair, play with those ridiculous curls and you would have to surrender yourself into my embrace. And we’d be still mouth to mouth of course. Our tongues would brush against, hot and twirling, we wouldn’t even want to take a break because kissing each other would be so sensational you’d want to do nothing else till the rest of your life. I wouldn’t care it’s your first kiss, because I know you would be good at it, natural as if it wasn’t aynthing new.“

Sherlock barely blinked or took a breath while the other boy was speaking. His throat was so dry he couldn’t even say a word, just swallow hard and kept staring at John.

“May I go on?“ John smiled uncertainly, noticing how confused Sherlock looks.

“I-I- I guess that-“ Sherlock had to pause, he was clearly wavering a little, rubbing his finger around the rim of his glass he was stil holding. He was in doubt, just a little, but then his eyes were met with John’s again and he didn’t even had to finish his sentence. John knew Sherlock wants to go on, despite not able to express it with words.

So John moved closer, leaning right next to Sherlock’s ear he was speaking under his breath while his hand reached for the upper button of Sherlock’s shirt to undo it. Sherlock was already breathing hard, watching John‘s fingers as John creased on the lapel of his shirt.

“Is this okay?“

“Yes, please.“

“Good. So we’d be snogging for minutes, overhelmed with fever. But I would want more, much more than that, because I do want to have more, Sherlock. We want each other so bad it’s driving us mad. I’d leave your mouth and I would go down, smoothly kissing your chin and then back up, pecking your cheeks while having your face cupped in my hands. I’d tip your head up to get to your throat and-“ John’s eyes flicked down, his alcohol-flavored breath was blowing warm against Sherlock’s skin, heating him up. He took the glass from Sherlock’s hand, putting it away as he placed one chaste kiss on Sherlock’s jaw, feeling how the other boy‘s whole body shivered afterwards.

“John-“

“Shhh.“ It was John’s finger folded on Sherlock’s mouth what silenced him. It slipped down, slightly parting his wetted lips as Sherlock watched that movement through half-closed lashes. He was so being disstracted he didn’t even notice how John took his ear lobe in between his lips, gently suckling, tip of his tongue tingling the sensitive spot. He percieved only after John’s tongue snapped down and dashed under the ear, then traced the line of Sherlock’s jaw. Although still pretty drunk and puzzled, Sherlock was definitely enjoying it. Yes, he was enjoying what John was doing to him, he was enjoying how it made him feel. He was even enjoying that he was already getting hard, something he usually wasn't quite comfortable with. And he of course knew that John would stop if he told him, but there was literally no reason, so he kept his mouth shut, letting John continuing with what he was doing.

“I’d lick your throat all the way down, Sherlock. That smooth pale skin, I’d bit on it, taking it between my teeth and carefully nibble and you would make the loveliest noises, darling, you’d whine and groan, you’d be melting under my touch. It would be throwing me over the edge, because I love your deep sexy voice, I love that it makes me want to rip all your clothes apart and just get into your pants. I love when it rumbles inside your chest when you laugh, when you say my name and glare right through me, I fucking love when you speak so I can watch your lips move and let your voice ring in my ears.“

John let himself catch a breath, he gripped Sherlock’s face and turned it left to look him in the eyes. That millisecond of longing and lust was enough for both of them to consider turning the talking into action, although neither of them thought of it in the start.

“Say something.“ John tilted his head aside, his hands now wrapped around Sherlock’s neck, fingers slightly stroking the nape of it.

Sherlock closed his eyes, then leaned a little forward, causing their foreheads touch. He nuzzled against John’s face, their noses bumping, mouths hovering over each’s other. Even though he couldn‘t see it, Sherlock knew John just licked his lips, hungry for a reply.

“Kiss me.“ It was that simple, yet for Sherlock, saying it was like jumping off the cliff. He took a deep breath, leaving his eyes shut while John smiled contentedly before chaining their lips together. It all felt exactly how Sherlock expected it would, exactly how John portrayed it. Even better actually. Taken with caution at first, both of them a bit groggy, but then, when they stopped playing around and just pressed their lips against each other's, it was suddenly all good. John was the one changing angles, the first one who sticked out his tongue, but Sherlock followed the path, quickly getting used to the rythm of their moving lips. He couldn’t think of anything that tasted better than John’s lips, because it was the right mixture of sweet and salty, simply delicious sapor. Sherlock didn’t even mind when John’s tongue casually slipped into his mouth, rolling in and out, brushing the roof of his mouth.

The time has just stopped around them, they felt like leaping off the ground and then falling again at extreme speed, then, withing a second they slowed down and turned it all into a peaceful motion, simply enjoying the blissful feeling of each other's lips.

“John-“ Sherlock pulled out only so far so he could speak. Both of them were grasping for air, but grinning, still astonished with what was happening.

“John,I-“

“Don’t you even dare to ask if you did it wrong, Sherlock, because you fucking didn‘t. I said you'd be naturally good and you are perfect.“

“But-“

“I mean it. I actually can’t believe how gr-“

“I just-“

“Oh no, it was too much? Sorry, I thought you were-“

“John,“ Sherlock's voice was surprisingly demanding. “I just wanted to ask... what would you do next?“

Rapidly batting his lashes, almost as if he didn’t understand what Sherlock is asking for, John just stared at him, speecheless.

“John?“

“You still want to go on?“

“Of course, you just kiss so good, I- well, I can’t really compare, but I am sure no one kisses better than you.“ Sherlock smiled, his cheeks stil flooded in pink, John could almost feel the fire burning from them. How could people ever hurt such a frail and adorable boy was still a mystery to him.

“So you want me to continue?“ he asked softly, pecking Sherlock’s chin a few times.

“Yes, please. Say whatever you want. You might do what you think will please us the most. I just... _want_ you John.“

“But you‘ll tell me when I should stop, right?“

Sherlock did not offer any other answer than a simple nod, so John just tipped his head aside and kissed Sherlock’s neck, leaving him moan for the first time.

“Sorry,“ Sherlock quivered as if he did something unacceptable, becoming ashamed of himself, just wanting to bury his head against the pillow.

“Don’t be silly.“

“But my parents-“

“They won’t hear you,“ John laughed. “Besides you locked the door, rememeber?“ Quiet chuckle resonated deep in John’s chest, his hands stroking Sherlock’s arms as he kept kissing his face.

Such an argument was apparently enough, Sherlock shut his eyes, his hands glibly slithering under John’s shirt, he gasped again upon brushing that rugged body. He tried to be slow and prudent, drawing just small circles over John’s back while John pulled him closer, basically leaning against his trembling body he was now placing hundreds of kisses in the crook of Sherlock’s neck.

“You are beautiful,“ he mumbled. “I want to get rid of that shirt, I want to feel your body, Sherlock, smell you, touch you and kiss you for the whole night if it’s okay with you. But I am getting a feeling we’ve just reached the point of no more ‘would‘ nor ‘if‘, Sherlock, right? It’s happening in this very moment. For as far as you‘re willing to go.“

Sherlock tried to reply but he didn’t even managed to open his mouth, John already reached for the rest of the buttons of his shirt.

“It’s your turn,“ John whispered against Sherlock’s lips once his shirt fell of his shoulders.

Sherlock’s hands were shaking, he felt stupid, but couldn’t help it. He was being half naked in front of a much better looking boy after all, a boy who just kissed him and what’s more who’s been secretly in love with him for the whole time. Sherlock’s been kissed for the first time and he was still not over it, he waited for that moment he’ll wake up from this dream and John will be nowhere around.

“Sherlock?“ John’s soothening voice brought him back to that beautiful reality.

Sherlock immediately tugged John’s shirt up just a little, revealing his quite muscular abdomen before completely pulling it over his head and tossing it away.

“It really does things to me,“ Sherlock muttered, his breathing shallow as he just couldn’t stop staring at John’s perfect torso. He suddenly felt like he’s going to choke, panic struck him as his pants were starting to get more than uncomfortable. John was not being oblivious to that, in fact he noticed it in an instant.

“Oh, Sherlock, if you’d let me, I could make it better. Much better.“

Sherlock hesitated. Of course he did, as he claimed, he wasn’t prepared for everything, not when it all happened so fast. However much he wanted it, he had zero experience in this area and what’s more, he was scared of failing and disappointing John.

“Well?“ John’s hands dropped down on Sherlock’s knees, slightly caressing and stroking up his thighs without breaking an eye contact. John waited for that moment when Sherlock will back-peddal. He expected that to happen much sooner actually.

“If I’ll have to stop it’s totally fine with me, Sherlock, I told you – only as far as you are willing to go.“

“I don’t want you to stop. Not yet.“

“Fine.“ John leaned in close, gently brushing his lips against Sherlock’s cheek.

“So... I might do this, right?“ he purred into Sherlock’s ear, his voice breathy and teasing, causing Sherlock to whimper quietly. John raised one hand and let it sink into Sherlock’s curls, while the other one was still resting upon Sherlock’s thigh, grazing the fabric of his jeans as it moved near towards the crotch. He pulled Sherlock’s head even closer, kissing him while his fingers carefully brushed against the groin. Sherlock let himself to be heard again, this time with immense need and pleasure.

“John, please-“

“Okay, I got this, I got you, it’s alright.“ John’s palm was now stretched and fully pressed against Sherlock’s crotch, slightly rubbing in rather a lazy motion. Sherlock gasped a few times before the pressure of John’s hand was simply unbearable and he couldn’t suprass the urge to groan out loud.

“God, Sherlock,“ John stole himself a kiss again, trying to ignore his own cock being incredibly hard. Sherlock was no less desperate. He was never being touched in such a way, never before he felt ecstatic like this in his entire life. He suddenly rememebered all those nights he tried to please himself on his own, but it was nothing in compare with what John was doing right now. Wrapping his arm around John’s neck, he rested his head against John’s shoulder, both of his legs up on the bed now.

“Please, I want more.“ He whispered, not even knowing what he’s begging for.

“What?“ John’s hand froze, but he could barely react before Sherlock reached down and unbuckled his belt, unzipping his trousers just a second later. He glared into Sherlock’s eyes, but there was nothing in there he expected. No doubt, no uncertainity, just need and his pupils dilated so much his eyes apparead pure black and dark with devour.

“Are-are you sure?“

“John, please.“ Sherlock sure didn’t mean to sound so whiny, but all the blood in his body was flowing down to his groin, making his cock twitch and it was driving him crazy. John knew that very well, so he asked no more questions. His fingers slipped under Sherlock’s pants, twining aound the base of his cock, stroking a few times. Sherlock bit his lower lip so rough it was soon about to bleed, muttered groan vibrating in his throat. John leaned over Sherlock’s neck, his warm tongue wandering all over the sweaty skin while still rubbing Sherlock’s hardening cock. Both of them had to hold back their voices, even though the pulse to moan and gasp loud and pleasurably was tempting. Sherlock was sure of only one thing- he didn’t want his parents to come up and check on what was happening in his room. He even had to cover his mouth when John fastened up the pace and started to groan on his own.

“Oh, this won’t do. With those jeans on, I mean,“ John shook his head, sniggering. His own pants became so tight he just wanted to strip down everything he had left on, jump on Sherlock and slake his arousal. But predecting Sherlock wouldn’t probably agree with such a fast course of events, he just hooked his fingers behind the waist band of Sherlock‘s trousers, rolling them down to his knees and then doing the same with his pants. But once naked, Sherlock swiftly clutched his legs together, rather a terrified expression on his face.

“Something wrong?“ John raised his eyebrows, hands quickly jerking off Sherlock.

“I just- this is weird, I- I suddenly feel kinda... odd, John. I wasn’t really expecting to get so exposed, I don’t even look half as good as you and-“ John quickly grabbed Sherlock by his arms, silencing him when they lips locked.

“Shut up, Sherlock, I love your body. You are so goddamn gorgeous, your beautiful marble skin, these slightly visible abs,  you- oh I swear you smell like a vanilla, Sherlock, you are flawless in every single way. And this-“ John gently pushed Sherlock’s legs apart, smirking in that sort of a dirty way. “This is as perfect as all the rest.“

Sherlock just rolled his eyes, clearing his throat before he was able to reply. “John, stop talking, please, just... just go on.“ He gripped John’s wrist, shifting his hand back where it was in between his thighs. The sight of what he was doing took John’s breath away, he could hardly even concentrate when his pants were definitely going to be messed up. He made a few rough strokes, rubbing his palm around the shaft while his thumb was massaging the tip of the head, precome leaking into John’s fist. John could nothing, but desperately wish for more contact while still doing Sherlock with his wetted hand.

“God, Sherlock, I want to take you so much. I want to take you and know how you taste, oh fuck, lie down.“ Last words were barely audible, John had no control over his voice or body anymore, he just nudged at Sherlock’s bare chest, pushing him down on the bed.

“John, please, J-“ Sherlock bit his tongue painfully, his back arching when John gave his cock one wavering lick.

“John, when did we-“

“If you want me to stop, tell me now, because I can’t asure you-“

“No, God, no.“ Sherlock squeezed on the covers, bucking his hips up against John’s mouth. He already felt numb, sanity slipping away as he was soon about to come right into John’s mouth. John's cold fingers were wrapped around his cock, pleasantly stroking while his tongue was twirling over the head, gently licking. Warm was spreading all over Sherlock’s body, it was much better than what he used to imagine on those nights alone in his room or shower. He wanted to cry out and scream, because it was the first time in his life he felt like this, first time he let anyone touch him and what’s more it was John Watson who held this privilege and was responsible for all that.

Sherlock widened his legs a bit more when John grabbed him by his thighs and lifted him up a little. He was taking Sherlock's whole lenght, deftly licking the sensitive underside of his cock while still stroking at its base and leaving out muttered groans. Sherlock was already lost somewhere in between the reality and the world of ecstasy, gabbling and breathing out John’s name, holding on the sheets so tight he feared he might tear them apart. Jolts of delight were strucking him in constant repeat, he felt like every cell inside of him was set on fire, his body engulfed with pleasure and bold obscenity he never experienced. His usually perfectly working brain became an useless mess now, able to deal with nothing more than a fact John’s mouth was full of Sherlock’s most intimate part of the body.

“John, I think, I am-“ John knew very well what Sherlock was about to say, because he was already swallowing everything that came right down his throat. Like he couldn’t get enough he was still sucking as if nothing yet happened, even though Sherlock was for more than a half minute just breathing heavily, trying to come back to his senses after experiencing his very first real orgasm.

“John,“ Sherlock lifted his head up with all the strength that was left in him, watching the other boy deliberately slowly pulling out the cock out of his mouth with a displeased frown on his face just because he had to stop. John wiped his mouth with back of his hand, glaring right into Sherlock’s weary eyes. He didn’t utter a word, not until he didn’t licked all his fingers in the most seductive way.

“That was briliant.“ Sherlock never saw John grining like that. He was apparently more than satisfied with himself and he should be, even though Sherlock had no idea how to tell him.

“It-it was. But what about you?“

“Me? What about me?“ John scowled, trying to catch on. Sherlock was for some reason staring right in between John’s legs, licking his lips.

“God, you mean you want to-?“

Sherlock propped himself up on his elbows, shrugging shoulders and it was enough for John to consider it a ‘yes‘.

“Oh god yes, come on.“ John let Sherlock undo his belt and flies, chuckling when Sherlock purposefully grabbed his arse while pulling down his pants. It was rather amusing to watch Sherlock stripping him down like that, with that pure innocence in his face, yet sex-starved devour hiding somewhere deep inside for such a long time.

“Oh.“ Whatever Sherlock ever imagined was awfully laughable in compare with what was right in front of him now. John’s cock was so hardened even John himself had no idea how could he hold on for so long.

John was bending on his knees, Sherlock on his four below him, he wetted his lips before placing his face against John’s groin, inhaling his scent, just exploring.

“Jesus, Sherlock, stop teasing or I am going to come all over your face, darling.“

But Sherlock was in state of experimenting. Before taking John’s cock in his mouth, he wanted to touch him, feel him. All his fantasies blended into reality, into this moment he finally had a chance to get what he secretly yerned for so long. He wanted to enjoy every second of it,  even though he was still acting a little heedful.

“What if I disappoint you?“ Sherlock mewled, bitting on his lower lip. “You were so good, John, what if I-“

John once again cut Sherlock mid-word, gripping his chin and tipping his head up to look into his face.

“Don’t worry, sweetheart, I know you’ll be amazing. I just look at your mouth and know it was made for this.“ John sniggered at his own comment, brushing Sherlock’s lips with his thumb. “Take me.“

Sherlock snorted, keeping an eye contact with John, he took his cock into his hand, stroking up and down, paying more than great attention to the head where John was being most sensitive.

“Fuck, Sherlock.“

“Good?“ Sherlock asked that in a way of expecting a negative answer.

“Sherlock, I- just take me already, I can’t stand this.“

Sherlock replied with just a moan, sticking his pink togue out he licked at head, swiftly twisting around.

“God, have mercy,“ John gasped, stroking the nape of Sherlock’s neck. “Don’t be scared, Sherlock, go on, you are being perfect so far, so perfect, babe.“

Sherlock let out a muttered chuckle, taking more of John into his mouth, trying to mimc all that John has been doing to him minutes ago. It took him a while, and certainly a lot of preparing, till he finally took a chance and swallowed more than half of John’s cock, shuting his eyes tight while doing so.

“Oh fuck, jesus, yes, yes. Sherlock how are you so-so good, oh yes, that’s right, babe.“

John grasped Sherlock’s curls, prompting him to swallow more of him. Tall boy showed no sign of protest, actually, he bobbed his head on his own, working his mouth over the cock, rubbing the underside with his unexpectedly skilled tongue. John bucked his hips forward fast, leaving Sherlock growl and whimper and almost fall down on the mattress. He already tasted a little of John, his thick cock being hot and hard inside Sherlock‘s mouth, something he could only dare to imagine till now.

It didn’t take long before John spilled his release inside of Sherlock’s mouth and a bit over it too as he was barely able to hold himself. Sherlock pulled out a frown, of course, natural reaction, John did expect that, but he was surprised Sherlock swallowed everything without uttering a word, he even licked his lips afterwards.

“Oh my God, Sherlock,“ panting and still not completely percieving, John let go of Sherlock’s hair, sitting down on his heels.

“Brilliant, Sherlock, just _brilliant_.“

Sherlock was grasping for air too, cheeks flushing and curls sticking on his sweaty forehead, but he looked more than pleased as he mirrored John’s position and shifted closer to him.

“You think so?“

“Oh fuck yes, I am still being mindblowed. You were astounding.“

“Stop, John, please, you’re making me blush.“

John giggled, leaning in and locking their lips. “I love when your cheeks turn all pink though,“ he whispered, smirking.“ And besides, what I am saying is just the truth. You are-“

He was cut mid-sentence when the doorknob behind him plucked. Both boys stopped breathing for a second, eyes opened wide and heart beating wild, all followed with a long sigh of relief when the door remained closed.

“Sherlock, you locked yourself up again?“ it was Sherlock mother’s voice who called from behind.

Sherlock exchanged a terrified look with John, panic striking him again, but John stroke his back, soothing him down and whispering into his ear what he should reply.

“I deserve some privacy, mum!“ Sherlock yelled, but, apparently, it wasn‘t convincing enough for his mother to leave.

“Should I be worried about you? I heard some noises coming from your room, are you sure you’re okay-“

“Mum!“

John sniggered quietly,  immediately snapping his hand against his mouth.

“Just checking on you, my boy. If you’d need anything, don’t hesitate asking.“

“Yeah, yeah, thanks, mother, can you leave now please? Good night.“

They’ve been listening for a while, but Sherlock’s mother apparently decided to leave for good as they heard her steps down the stairs.

“That was close,“ John tittered, putting his pants back on. Sherlock’s expression was still being horrified as he did the same.

“Thank God you locked the door.“

“John, you do realise what would happen if I didn’t? We got drunk and I just- we just, ok, we didn’t have sex yet, but we weren’t exactly doing our homework.“

“Yet?“ John raises his brows, dirty grin spreading on his face.

“Sorry?“

“You said we didn’t have sex. Yet.“

“Ehm, well, I am not saying tonight, John, definitely no, but I think we could maybe, you know, someday... oh, it doesn’t matter, I’ve had enough of thrill for today, let’s change the subject please.“

John smiled, his hand sliding over mattress and covering Sherlock’s.

“What about this kind of a subject?“ he chained their lips, his hand stroking up Sherlock’s arm and then gripping his neck.

“So, you are still staying for the night, right?“ Sherlock mumbled after breaking the kiss.

“Of course. Honestly, I feel as sober as before I took the first sip, but I’d be pretty disappointed if I didn’t spend the whole night cuddling with you. You’d get rid of me only if you’d throw me out of that window by yourself.“

“I reckon you’ll be not sleeping on the floor then.“

“No, Sherlock, that I won‘t.“

“But, John, you know that I-“

John cut Sherlock, knowing what he was about to say. “How many times do I have to tell you I’ll wait for as long as you want and that I won‘t force you to do anything you didn’t ask for?“

“I know, I am sorry,“ Sherlock sighed out, giving in to another kiss.

“So this means we’re-we’re together, John, right?“ John noticed a glimpse of doubt in Sherlock’s voice.

“Yes, we sure as hell are, Sherlock. There is actually nothing I ever wanted more in this world. Look, I know people say that relationships that start off so early doesn’t last for very long, but with you I feel we could be together for sixty years and I’d still love you more with each day.“

“You-you really love me?“

John realised he said that out loud, but he didn't regret it. Not when it was true. “Of course, with all my heart, Sherlock. You know what? Tomorrow we’ll walk down the hallway holding hands, we’re going to stop by our lockers sharing little kisses and if you’ll let me I will drag you somewhere in dark and we’ll be making out like there is no tomorrow.“

“I love you too.“ Sherlock wasn’t paying much attention to what John was talking about. He just stared at him like there was nothing more important in this world. John responded with a warm, soft smile and a peck on the back of Sherlock’s hand.

“So what do you think? Shall we call it a day?“

“As you wish. Although... I guess we won’t be sleeping for much tonight.“

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading!


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